


Desert Nights

by RydiaPryde



Category: Final Fantasy VI
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Celes Backstory/Character Study, Celes/Terra Friendship, Edgar being Edgar, F/M, Figaro Twins, I Will Keep Writing for This Ship Until Someone Joins Me on This Ship, Post-World of Ruin, Rebuilding Figaro, Sexual Content, Side Effects of Magicite, Smut, Some Violence later, new enemy, smut with plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:08:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 53,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24094108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RydiaPryde/pseuds/RydiaPryde
Summary: The Tower has fallen.  Kefka is dead.  The World needs to be rebuilt and Figaro wants to lead the charge.  With Celes and the twins combining political forces to push Figaro forward, they will need to rely on their allies to create a new and better world.  But, magicite infusion is not without complications, and Celes is beginning to suffer some of the side effects. To make matters worse, not everyone from the Empire is dead.  An adversary none of them thought of looms in the shadows, ready to strike, with a secret weapon among their ranks. A lot of smut, but a lot of plot.
Relationships: Celes Chere/Macías "Mash" Rene Figaro | Sabin Rene Figaro
Comments: 35
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

**Desert Nights**

**Chapter 1**

* * *

The fact that they made it to the airship with their lives was a miracle. Everyone had scratches and bruises, but for the most part, the group was intact.

Except for Shadow.

To stay behind as the Tower fell had been his choice. He told them all as much and had left his memento ring with Relm before they faced Kefka.

Sabin had a sneaking suspicion they just may see him again. The man seemed to survive everything. But either way, he felt at peace. Finally. For the most part anyway. There was still one nagging thing to be dealt with.

Celes had delivered the final blow. It was appropriate for her to finish it. After all, she was the one who really started it. When she found him in Tzen. Sabin had been right by her side when she took the clown down. They always fought beside to each other. Two years on the road together would do that, especially in the months that it was just the two of them. It was as natural as breathing to fight beside her. To _be_ beside her.

None of this would have happened if it weren’t for her. _She_ was the one who persuaded him to search for their friends. _She_ was the one who discovered “Gerard”, who convinced Setzer to look for the Falcon. The world owed her a great debt and they had no idea.

He wanted to tell her so much. To tell her towns would still be subject to Kefka’s “Light of Judgement” if she hadn’t started her journey. To tell her that he never would have found his brother if it weren’t for her. To tell her she was the reason Figaro had a chance at new life. _She_ was the reason for…while he talked a lot, the deeper conversations never came naturally or easily for him.

Once the Falcon got away from the collapsing wreckage, there were shouts of celebration among the group. Terra was crying into her hands, and Sabin gave her a crushing bear hug that she gratefully returned. Her muffled sobs into his shirt eventually subsided before she pulled away and cast him an appreciative smile. 

Edgar was next to grab him, pulling him into a ferocious hug, he could feel the moisture on his twin’s cheeks. “Time to go home now, Rene. It’s time…”

He was right, of course. It was time for him to return to Figaro after more than a decade away. To fulfil his father’s wishes of them ruling the kingdom together. He had no desire to be king, but he could be there to support his brother. And defend his homeland.

Edgar nodded towards Celes after releasing his brother from his embrace. The King had spent enough time as a trio with the two other blondes to know how Sabin felt about the former general. Sabin caught her eye and she smiled at him. A genuine smile. But there was a touch of apprehension etched in her face. 

He had become so used to seeing her every day, listening to her, fighting with her. The thought of being in Figaro and her being somewhere else in the world made Sabin feel nauseated. They had always gotten along, even before the world ended. 

But, their relationship changed in the World of Ruin. 

Nights together filled with quiet confessions in the dark. Personal fears. Desires. Even after everyone was reunited—they stuck together. Whenever she needed to work something out—solve a problem--it wasn’t Locke, or Edgar, or even Terra she went to. It was always _him_. 

Sabin wondered about Locke and what she may do in regards to the thief. After all, she had kept his bandana this whole time. Almost died in the Tower trying to save it. A _talisman_. That was what she called it. A sign that their _companions_ – her term for friends apparently – were all alive and they would find them. Hope. _Luck._

It was just a symbol—right?

Her conversations seemed to suggest a companionship between the two. A gratefulness, even, for showing her a different life. But nothing romantic. Then again, he didn’t really think Celes was _capable_ of romance. To find out that Locke hadn’t bothered to search for _any_ of them was a nail to the coffin. She did not seem surprised or upset by it, but she _had_ seemed glad when he decided to rejoin them on their journey.

There were so many things he wanted to say to her, to ask her, but it was impossible to know where to start. Sabin wore his heart on his sleeve, but when it came to expressing it-- he felt tongue-tied. He was a chatterbox, but not a suave talker.

So, he decided to go for a basic, celebratory response. It was a good place to start. He let out out a whoop, grabbed Celes by the waist, and lifted her like it was nothing. He spun around, twirling her in the air. “We did it!”

She was laughing. Like a girl who didn’t have a care in the world and hadn’t seen the destruction she had endured. It was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. Pure.

Sabin gently set her down on the deck of the airship and without thinking, reached forward to push a stray lock of wind-tossed hair behind her ear. “ _You_ did it.”

Surprisingly, she didn’t flinch away from his touch, instead seemed to lean into his hand. Or so he imagined. Her eyes were glowing and there was a tenderness in them he had never seen before.

Before his brain could register what he was doing, Sabin started kissing her. He pulled her face up to his and smashed his lips against her own. He had always been a somewhat impulsive person, especially when it came to his emotions. It’s what had led him down this entire road. Even then, this was his first kiss in over ten years, ever since he made his vow to the monkhood under Master Duncan. 

The desire he’d been fighting against for almost two years finally won – Celes had truly, genuinely, captured him. No matter how much he wanted to deny his urges, he wanted her more than anything.

To his surprise and delight, she was kissing him back. He felt her tongue pushing against his lips and deepened the kiss in response. With one hand, he cradled her face while the other snaked around her waist to pull her closer. One of her small hands gripped his shirt tightly, while the other hesitantly tangled in his hair. Forgetting where they were, he never wanted this moment to end.

The moment _was_ interrupted by a shrill whistle. “I expected this behavior out of your brother…but never you.” Relm teased him, whistling again in a cat call.

Celes practically ripped herself away in embarrassment, but didn’t run, instead allowed him to keep a hand on her waist.

Sabin caught Locke’s eyes in the distance and didn’t fail to notice the glare the thief was giving him. He couldn’t worry about that. Locke had made his choice when the world ended and now, so had Celes—right?

Celes was about to say something, but Sabin did not want to give her a chance to doubt, or overthink. For once, he wanted her to be as impulsive as him.

“Come with me.” He asked hastily. “To Figaro.”

“Figaro?”

“Yeah. For now, at least. I mean, if you want.” He knew he was coming off far less smoothly than he intended, but it was the best he could do. He knew Celes had nowhere to go, unless she had planned on following Locke somewhere. Or maybe going to Mobliz with Terra. She had no family and Vector no longer existed.

Celes hesitated and he could sense the gears in her head turning.

“You, me…and Edgar--we always made a great team.” There. This way she wouldn’t feel obligated for anything.

She studied him carefully, as if searching for dishonesty in his offer. Finally, she leaned up and gave him a soft peck on the cheek. “I need to do something.” She said softly before pulling back and walking away from him.

Was that a yes?

She bounded away, towards Locke. He narrowed his eyes slightly, but it wasn’t his business what they were talking about. He pleaded his case and it was her decision now. She was always an independent woman—nothing he said or did was going to sway her—she would do whatever she wanted.

A few agonizing, yet celebratory hours later, Setzer was announcing Figaro Castle as their first stop on the airship, and Celes appeared next to him, with her bag in her hand.

* * *

Sabin wasn’t sure what he expected after they left the airship and entered Figaro Castle. It was almost nightfall, and of course she would be staying in the castle— _somewhere._

The trio turned and waved to their companions on the Falcon as it slowly rose back into the sky, the air currents whipping down and causing their collective hair to fly around their faces.

Figaro Castle had remained largely intact after the world ended. Likely because it had been hidden under the sand. Celes seemed as hesitant as him as they entered the castle. She had made the step and disembarked with them, but what did that mean? Was she his girlfriend? That word seemed trite to describe their relationship. They had been companions for a long time before their kiss—surely it was deeper than that.

His partner? His lover?

Sabin gulped as he felt his throat go dry at that thought. They had only _just_ shared their first kiss. He certainly knew what he _wanted_ , but had no idea how to go about it. He was confident she knew some his feelings, and was also sure they had to at least be partially reciprocated--or else she wouldn’t be here. Or maybe she just wanted a place to stay. Maybe the kiss was a fluke in a heated moment of joy at having completed their mission.

He envied Edgar in situations like these. Edgar was always smooth with language, smooth with women—to a fault—it led him into far more trouble than it should. Sabin was a malboro in a rune shop. Unrefined and uncouth, the opposite of his twin brother.

“First things first, I have things to attend to with the council, an update mostly on what happened to Kefka. Rene, why don’t you show Celes to the private chambers?”

Thank goodness for Edgar. His words kickstarted Sabin into doing something. _Anything_. Action would give him time to figure out the next step. “Sure thing, Roni.” He gave Edgar a thumbs up before almost shyly offering his hand to Celes. Edgar would have gallantly offered his arm, but not Sabin.

Celes glanced between the two brothers, almost about to say something, then seemingly thought better of it and took Sabin’s offered hand.

They found themselves at the top of one of the towers, where the royal chambers stood. One room that belonged to Edgar with another room for Sabin. It had been kept up for him for over ten years, hoping for his return.

Pausing, he glanced down at the woman holding his hand. Her eyes were dancing in the torchlight. He wasn’t sure of what to do next, so he placed his calloused hand gently behind her neck to pull her to his lips for another kiss.

She eagerly returned the kiss, her nimble hands snaking up to rest against his strong chest.

“Sabin…” She murmured against his lips, deepening the kiss.

He had her backed against the cold stone of the castle wall. Pressing firmly with his body, pinning her. Kissing her hungrily, he gently tugged her hair, causing her head to tip slightly to allow him better access to her full lips. 

Sabin pulled back and rested his forehead against hers with a small sigh. He was trying to calm the butterflies he felt in his stomach. The _anticipation_. He would be thrilled just to keep kissing her. She seemed to have no problem with that, and any thoughts that their first kiss had been an aberration were quashed.

“You’re covered in smoke and ash.” Celes finally said. She was covered as well, in addition to blood from various monsters. Getting out of the tower unscathed—even remotely clean--had not been easy. 

Of course, he should offer her a bath. He should have thought of that earlier. “Um, yeah, you probably want to clean up, huh?”

He pulled back slightly, but kept an arm wrapped around her waist as he led her to the large wooden door to his room.

The bedroom was large, with floor to ceiling windows that let moonlight cascade across the ornate rug on the floor. In the center was a large four poster bed with rich silk sheets. A fire roared in the fireplace, giving the room a soft pleasant glow and a nice reprieve from the cool desert night.

Sabin quietly shut the door behind her. He turned and watched as she silently took in her surroundings. Noticing small trinkets and picking them up and examining them.

He gestured to the closet that connected to the washroom. “You can clean up in there, uh, I’ll--” He pointed to the door indicating he would be using a different bathroom.

“Thank you.” 

He was about to exit the room when her voice stopped him.

“You’ll come back? _Here,_ I mean? After?”

Sabin’s stomach knotted, but he didn’t dare turn to look at her. “Yeah. Sure.”

* * *

Sabin didn’t think he had ever washed up so fast in his entire life. Even when living on the road. 

He found himself sitting on the edge of the bed as he waited for her to leave the bathroom. Was she going to stay in this room with him? He really should have brought her to one of the guest rooms, instead of _his_ bedroom. It wasn’t like that hadn’t slept near each other before. They had slept next to each other all the time when it was just the two of them travelling, they had even shared a tent _and_ the same bed on the occasions they were in a town. 

But, he knew this was different.

There was no way he was going to be able to keep his hands to himself with her so close to him. Not after he had finally tasted her. It’s why Duncan had made him take the vow of celibacy, after all. It kept him under control.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he heard her soft footsteps coming from the washroom. He turned to look at her. Her hair was damp and loose, cascading around her in waves. She wore a simple flowing tunic and leggings, probably the last clean clothes she had. Her armor was off, and her epee nowhere to be seen. He could practically envision how wonderful she must smell and it was taking all his self-control to not go over there and bury his face into her neck and tangle his hands through her hair.

It was now or never.

The monk stood and walked over to her, gently grabbing her tiny strong hands.

“Are these your chambers?” She asked softly, her eyes gazing anywhere but him.

“Um…yeah. My old room anyway. I mean, I guess it still is. I stayed here the rare times we were at the castle.” He must sound like a blubbering idiot.

“I figured. The gold bearskin and black dragon talon kind of gave it away.” She finally looked up at him.

“You smell good,” he blurted out, immediately feeling painfully awkward.

Celes arched an eyebrow at him, but still didn’t pull her hands out of his, instead she stepped closer to him. “So do you. _For once_.” She added with a coy smile.

Then, they were kissing again, and he was marveling at how damn soft she was. Curves he never realized existed underneath the armor and the pretense. The next thing he knew, he had backed her up against the edge of his bed and she was tugging at the hem of his shirt.

He allowed her icy hands to slide against his flesh, relishing at the tingling sensation as she carefully traced every muscle in his abdomen and chest. She slowly pushed the shirt over his head before she tossed it to the side, her lips immediately finding his again.

Sabin found himself running his fingers over the smooth skin of her waist as he snuck his hands underneath the hem of her tunic. Her body was impossibly cold, but he didn’t mind--all he could feel was how soft and supple she was beneath his touch. 

His fingers were pushed aside, and he felt a pang of disappointment. He knew it was wrong to be disappointed, she didn’t owe him anything. Celes stepped back from him and he watched her carefully.

Slowly--painfully slowly--she lifted her fingers to the ties of her top and began to loosen it, before shrugging the garment over her head. 

Sabin gulped at the sight before him. Most of her skin was covered by a white corset, laced in the front, with her surprisingly ample bosom pushed up from the top. He never knew _that_ was hiding underneath her armor.

“I bind them when I fight.” She was saying, and Sabin blushed heavily, realizing she had obviously noticed him gaping at her chest. It made sense, they would restrict her movement with her sword if they were unbound.

Celes had not scolded him though, and didn’t seem to mind him starting at her body. Instead she placed a palm on his cheek briefly before pulling away. “I’ve—I’ve never done this before.” She confessed quietly.

Sabin traced a finger across her cheek, down her chin, along her collarbone, and finally down to the top of her cleavage, stopping to rest on the ribbon that held her corset in place. “Neither have I.”

Celes looked surprised, but it didn’t stop her in gently guiding his hands to the corset’s ties, encouraging him to pull to release them.

“I’ve been a monk for over a decade, remember?” He reminded her. Thirteen years, to be exact.

It wasn’t as if he was inexperienced—he had plenty of encounters before he took his vow. He had been a red-blooded male in his youth; handsome, a prince in a castle--he had just never gone all the way. He _had_ done just about everything else though—with more partners than he cared to admit to. But, he had protected himself from the many women that would try to position themselves into a hasty marriage—and Sabin was a man of honor--it was never worth the risk. Then, when he committed fully to the monkhood, he took his vow of celibacy. Not that plenty of women hadn’t tried to get him to break said vow.

Celes finished untying the garment for him and grabbed Sabin’s hands, pressing them against the boned corset and guiding it to push it off of her skin. His calloused palms grazed over her breasts as he finally removed the offending clothing.

“Shit…” Sabin whispered, as his hands traced back to her chest to rest there, tentatively ghosting over the soft skin, unbelieving of what was happening. 

She cupped his face and pulled him down for another kiss. “Me faire l’amour…”

He felt her hands trace down his chest to the top of his pants. Hovering right at the waistband.

Sabin grabbed her wrists. “Are…are you sure?” He wasn’t completely sure she realized what she was asking of him, and what it implied for their future. This would be _it_ for him—there would be no turning back once the floodgates opened and he completely broke his vow. And he had responsibilities to Figaro—to the crown and Kingdom. They would be bound forever after this. Did she realize that?

“Yes.” She wriggled her wrists out of his loose grip, looked him square in the eyes without an ounce of the hesitation they fleetingly held mere seconds ago, and undid his trousers. They sank to the floor. Freeing him completely. He was already achingly hard and sprang out from the confines of his pants. Any willpower to stop himself had completely gone out the window.

He stood there in the firelight under her gaze as she stepped back and sat on the bed. Staring at him. Sabin had never been shy about his body--he knew it was near perfect, scars and all, from his years of training, though he never had an ego about it. He also knew he was extremely well endowed—he had heard it from his past encounters--though that had never mattered in his profession. As her eyes travelled across his body, stopping just below his waist, he found himself nervous. He realized he desperately wanted her approval. Wanted her to be pleased with what she saw.

Celes’ mouth hung open as she gazed at his engorged manhood. “Wow…” she murmured softly, likely without realizing it, clearly in awe of him. 

Sabin couldn’t help but smirk proudly.

Celes bit her lip and hesitantly reached out to grasp him. Her fingers were extremely cold against his skin, but it was not an unpleasant sensation. He shuddered as she gently stroked him and marveled how small and delicate her hand was despite being a warrior. She wasn’t even close to being able to close her fingers around his girth. He was going to have to do this right and make sure he didn’t hurt her—but the distraction of what she was doing to his member was making it very hard to focus.

Sabin groaned as Celes tightened her grip. At this rate he wouldn’t even make it to the main event. He gently pushed her hands away from him and guided her down onto the bed, crawling over her and burying his face into her neck, placing a soft kiss there.

“Was—did I do it wrong?” She asked softly. Hesitantly.

The idea that Celes could remotely doubt herself was mind boggling to the martial artist and he shook his head, chuckling. “Gods, no. You’re perfect. _Too_ perfect.”

He trailed his kisses from her neck down to her chest, hands squeezing her breasts more gently than he thought he was able in that moment. His kisses dropped down her taut stomach and he felt her breathing increase as he got lower. Dragging his hands down from her breasts, down the soft skin of her abdomen, his callouses caught slightly on the unbelievably soft skin. The roughness must have felt good, however, because he heard her breath hitch.

As much as he wanted to savor each moment, take it slow—the telltale tingling in his groin wouldn’t let him. He needed to _see_ her. Unable to control himself any longer, he hooked his hands at the top of her leggings and peeled them off, her panties slipping off with the garment. He could smell her immediately, and the intoxicating scent made his mouth water, his manhood twitch. 

And, in an instant, she was before him in all her glory. Sabin swallowed audibly, forcing himself to take a deep, calming breath. Taking in the sight before him. Unbelieving that this gorgeous— _naked_ —woman had somehow ended up in his bed. “Ghorboon sadageh…,” he whispered as he stared at her. She had no idea what he said, but Sabin was confident that the heat of his gaze conveyed what was on his mind.

She was blushing, the rouge travelling from her face and down her graceful neck and chest, but she made no moves to cover herself.

Cautiously, he reached to touch her. He knew he had to ready her or this whole thing would be unpleasant for both of them. Sabin gently eased her legs apart. In all his previous experience, he had been more focused on his own pleasure, rarely his partner. This was vastly different. He understood the mechanics of it all—for he had heard stories. And, he had experience from his youth and was confident he could please her with his hands. But, as he stared at her, listened to her breathe, could sense the _want_ practically billowing from her, he knew this was going to be so much more than play. They were going to make love, and he was terrified he would mess this up. And he _couldn’t_ mess this up. 

He breathed a small sigh of relief when he found that she was already excited as he rubbed a finger against her outer folds, making it easy to slip inside her.

She sucked in a surprised breath, then let out a low, guttural, pleasure-laden moan. He continued to explore her with his fingers, adding a second. Quickly, he figured out where and how to move his hand based on her reactions, audible and physical. He had always been an excellent student.

He leaned over her as he continued to pump his fingers within her, speed increasing. Her legs fell open and she practically mewled in delight. Capturing her moan in a kiss, he sucked on her bottom lip briefly before moving his mouth to her ear. He never stopped thrusting his fingers. “Feel good?”

“I…ohhhh…just…” She licked her lips before her mouth fell agape with pleasure.

Her euphoric, breathy voice, unable to form a coherent sentence, sent him reeling. He knew he was growing harder by the second and ached for release. Ached to feel her touch again. Ached to be inside her.

But, he refused to stop. Not when she was this deep in the throes of rapture. He quickened his pace, his slicked fingers a blur. The sound of her wetness as his hand moved was encouraging him to go faster, deeper. When he found the exact right spot that seemed to drive her wild, she arched her back from the bed, pushing him up, her long blonde tresses cascading across the mattress. He cradled her head with his free hand, tangling his hand within her soft hair, kissing her in between her gasps. “Sabin…ah…please…”

Hearing his name tumble breathlessly from her lips nearly made him lose control, and had to stop himself from taking her then and there. She was definitely wet enough for him already, but he wanted more. He wanted to see her completely let go. Hear her scream his name. Inundated with total pleasure. She was close, he could feel it on his fingers. He doubted he would last long when he finally got inside of her and wanted to lead her to climax at least once.

“Pleaaase—I need…” She couldn’t finish as she moaned again.

He completely understood the ache she was certainly feeling, for his member was throbbing with desire. “I know. Let go, Celes.”

She came undone before him, shuddering as she collapsed back on the bed with a delicious moan. It was the most beautiful and erotic thing he had ever seen in his life. He removed his fingers and her eyes widened as he licked them clean, eager to taste her. 

Sliding up her body, he partially rested on top of her, holding himself up slightly as to not crush her. She was still shaking underneath him, panting heavily. He could feel the heat of her core on him and she was writhing her hips, bucking up to meet his sweating body, clearly wanting to feel his length. 

Sabin was barely holding onto his control as he kissed the woman underneath him, sliding his tongue in her mouth. He never wanted to stop kissing her, but he desperately wanted to feel her intimate embrace. Finally, he pulled back a fraction, but kept his mouth near hers. “Are you ready?” He asked softly, almost pleading, against her lips.

She smiled, her pupils blown wide with passion. “Sabin…yes…”

Hearing his name again, the lust in her voice fluttering between them, he knew it was time.

Pushing her legs apart with his knees, he slowly slid into her, clasping her hand within his own. She was unbearably tight. And hot. It was even better than he had ever dared to imagine. And once he was fully sheathed, he stilled for a moment so she could adjust to him. Thankfully, there was no barrier to break through, a lifetime of training had ensured that hers was gone long ago. But he was sure it was still uncomfortable to some extent and didn’t miss the flash of pain that went across her face as he pushed in. He was glad he took the time to prepare her.

She hissed slightly as he pressed with her, twisting her hips to allow him easier, less-painful access. Once he was completely within her, her legs relaxed and she let out a low, breathy moan. Lifting her knees, she let her legs fall open, allowing him to achieve deep penetration. 

Sabin kissed her again, softly, tenderly. A breathy confession “I love you.”

Celes was still panting slightly. She didn’t return the sentiment, but she kissed him back. He felt her squeeze his hand, and figured that was his cue.

Slowly he began a steady rhythm. Her gasps quickly turned into moans, and the moans turned into begging, and calling out his name. At some point her long smooth legs came up and locked around his waist, driving him in deeper, her nails digging into his sturdy back as she clutched him tightly. Her mouth was on his ear, begging him not to stop.

The sounds she was making and the way she felt were driving him crazy—he was not going to last much longer. “You feel…amazing, I—I’m going to…” He panted into her ear. He briefly made moves to pull out, to allow her more time to achieve another release, but her arms clung to him, and her strong legs remained clasped around him.

“Yes—please—ah…Sabin.”

As much as he wanted to let go, as much as he wanted to ride out his climax sheathed within her warmth, he knew he shouldn’t. If they were to conceive an heir this way…

“Celes, you’ve…gotta let me…” He pulled out, his manhood glistening with her essence. Her eyes were trained on his fingers, wrapped around himself. Awed. Enthralled. She moaned as she watched, licking her lips seductively. A few strong pumps of his hand and he released himself, thick white strands splashing onto her belly. He felt a little embarrassed, this was not the way he wanted their first time to go, per se, but at least there wasn’t a chance of an unwanted pregnancy.

He blew out a long, satisfied breath, before reaching for his discarded shirt, deftly wiping her abdomen clean. The staff would probably question it in the morning, but he really didn’t care.

As he lay down, he pulled her close. She instinctively pressed her legs together with a hiss. His concern was immediate. Had he hurt her? He adjusted the silk sheet over their bodies and tried to ensure his voice was calm, but showed enough worry. “Are you okay?” He wanted to ask ‘did I hurt you?’ but couldn’t bring himself to those words or those thoughts. Hearing the answer, even if it were the truth, would break his heart.

“Yes. Much better than okay,” she answered with a content sigh, snuggling into the crook of his arm. “Mmm…Sabin?”

“Hmm?” He sleepily replied with relief, running his hand absently along her arm.

“When can you do that again?”

His guffaw echoed throughout the room.


	2. Chapter 2

**Desert Nights**

**Chapter 2**

* * *

Sabin awoke the next morning exhausted. It was already well past daylight. He had reached for Celes again in the middle of the night with more success than their first time. Not that the first was a failure, but he was able to last a lot longer and they were both considerably less nervous.

He gazed down at the nude woman in his bed. She was snoring very softly, sleeping on her back with her arms stretched above her head. Her golden hair spilled across the pillows, framing her content expression. Sabin reached out to push some of the strands from her face when he heard a soft knock at the door.

Sighing, he got up slowly and grabbed a throw blanket to wrap around his waist, pausing to lift the sheet higher to give Celes some decency. Padding quietly over to the door, he opened it enough to see who was outside.

“Ala Hazrat.” A squire named Pierre stood there, bowing his head. A small blush crossed his features as he noticed Sabin’s lack of clothing and the love bites along his collar bone and scratches on his shoulders.

“Please don’t call me that.”

Pierre shifted uncomfortably, clearly not willing to speak to the prince informally. “Um, Sire?” That was the best he could do. “The King requests your presence for lunch in two hours.”

“What time is it?”

“Eleven, Sire.”

Sabin snorted. “Thanks, Pierre. I’ll be there.”

Before the young man could say anything else, Sabin closed the door. Well, he was awake now, but no reason to wake Celes. Shedding the blanket, he crossed the room to the other door, which led through a large closet and then to the adjoining en suite. 

Stepping into the bathroom, he cleaned himself with the buckets in the shower area before sinking into the large bath with a sigh. He didn’t realize how tired his muscles were until the hot water began to massage them. As he slowly relaxed, he reflected that he hadn’t had a proper bath like this in years. 

Sabin closed his eyes and leaned his head back, picturing each of his muscles loosening up under the hot water. He steadied his breathing--it was as good of a place to meditate as any. Reflect on what had taken place. Especially on the previous night. He was still in a state of shock. Never in a million years would he have imagined that Celes would come to Figaro with him, let alone give him her virginity. He was both stunned and honored.

He hoped Celes understood the implications of what had happened. She had spent time among the royalty of Vector, surely, she had to know. Not to mention, she definitely knew how important his monkhood was to him, they had many conversations about it in the past. She had to know what it meant for him to give in to her. If she was going to stay in Figaro, and he hoped she was, she was either going to have to become his wife or his official mistress, and fast. He certainly didn’t want to _stop_ sleeping with her now that he had finally tasted her. He also didn’t want to be with anyone else—if it hadn’t been for her, he probably would have continued his vow—at least until the chancellors of Figaro forced him to choose a bride and make an heir.

He couldn’t picture Celes being happy as a mistress. She was far too commanding to be reduced to someone underneath a man. While it would give her some power in the country—it wouldn’t be the political kind, and he didn’t think she would care about castle drama and hierarchy. He knew Edgar likely had a few lovers, but didn't foresee Celes particularly getting along with the types of women who would be in that position.

But, he also couldn’t really picture her as a wife, either. Not traditionally, anyway. She was a warrior who scoffed at the entire idea of ‘love’. Would she even want either of those things? She hadn’t told him that she loved him, after all, and emotionally she was especially hard to read. It was quite possible that the entire event meant something far more to him than it did to her. Maybe she would leave Figaro. He definitely didn’t want that, but he couldn’t really follow her either. Figaro needed him and he had promised Edgar he would stay. He would have to be content with the _memory._

Castle gossip was a real and powerful thing—and either way, they would have to decide quickly. 

* * *

Celes awoke to the sound of water running somewhere nearby. Slowly, she sat up in the large bed and leaned against the headboard, clutching the sheet to her chest. She felt rather sticky and figured she didn’t look much better. In the months of travelling and sleeping on the earth, she had grown accustomed to waking up filthy. Being on the airship had softened her. Catching her reflection in the mirror she noted that her hair was tangled, and she looked to be a bit of a mess despite having a proper bath the day before.

Not that she minded the reason she looked and felt that way. She found herself laughing out loud at the entire absurdity of what had transpired. Two days ago they had defeated Kefka, and here she was deflowered and naked in the bed of a man who had been her battle companion for the better part of two years. Three years if you counted the time before the world ended. 

Before yesterday, she had never really viewed him in a romantic or physical way. Sure, he was handsome and well built, and she cared deeply for him, but it wasn’t as if she had been lusting after him for the past two years. Almost the opposite—she had viewed him as a comrade in arms. It was like something clicked when he kissed her, and she realized that he was indeed a man. Quite a man, at that.

_Sabin_ …she blushed as she thought of the previous night. It came as no surprise when he was an extremely passionate lover. He made love like he fought. All in. She could tell he was holding back though, afraid of hurting her, and she appreciated his gentleness. He was a lot bigger than she had imagined, which seemed nearly impossible, because nothing on that man was small. Celes bit her lip as she thought about him on top of her, every inch of the monk’s body was as if it was chiseled from stone.

Now she would have to marry him, she supposed. Wouldn’t she? Certainly, if they wanted to continue the amazing occurrence that had happened last night—and she definitely wanted to continue repeating it. She had never pictured herself as a wife. She had spent her life training to be elite in the military. However, that chapter was over now. Sabin must know that she wouldn’t be happy locked up in a castle. Then again, he wouldn’t be happy that way either. A wife? She had never cared about things like that. Or imagined them. She was not the romantic type at all. 

But tradition and honor were important to Sabin. She knew that. And she suspected he might be a bit of a romantic too, like his brother. He was technically a prince for goodness sakes, though she never viewed him that way and he never really acted like one. He would have never slept with her unless he was planning on marrying her very quickly. Quickly enough that if she became pregnant there wouldn’t be any whispers of impropriety. Plus, being a royal, there were certain _expectations_. 

Celes gulped at the thought of children. She wasn’t even sure she could _have_ children. It was quite possible the magicite infusion rendered her barren. Would Sabin hold that against her? She had never even thought she would be vulnerable enough to be with someone this way. Men had always made her feel like a chess piece to be won. A _conquest._

She suddenly found herself missing Terra immensely. Terra was as clueless as she was in these things and talking to her always helped. She would have to write to her soon.

Or maybe Sabin wasn’t planning on having her stay in Figaro? But, then why would he have asked her here? He would never want to sully her name. Her honor was more important to him than his own. She knew that, at least. 

Everything was happening fast. Too fast, yet it had been building for years at the same time.

Celes sighed deeply, pushing the thoughts away for now. First thing, she certainly needed a bath, and hoped it might ease the slight soreness between her legs. Standing slowly from the bed, she tried to flatten her hair into something decent and made her way to the bathroom. It sounded like Sabin was bathing in there, and she considered waiting for him to finish. A terrible thought crossed her mind and she decided to join him instead.

Apparently, he had thought as much as well because the door to the washroom from the bedroom was partially open and she could hear him humming in the bath. She opened the door and his humming stopped the moment he saw her.

He was gazing her the most captivating way. Like she was something to be devoured. Gingerly, she walked over to the shower area, aware that his eyes never left her form. Silently, she rinsed herself off. Sabin’s eyes never averted. He just watched her. Silently. Once she was finished, she turned to the large marble bath and walked towards it. 

He made no move to leave, and no motions to show that he didn’t want her company. Slowly, she sank into the large bath, opposite him. Waiting. Unsure. Finally, he opened his arms to her, and she scooted across the tub towards him, straddling his lap and resting her hands on his shoulders.

At this angle she was slightly taller than he, and he looked up at her, pleasantly surprised. 

“It’s almost noon.” He stated simply, before planting a wet kiss on her neck.

As Celes shifted closer to his warm, solid body, she felt something pressed in between them. She was surprised at how soft the skin was. Sabin obviously had enjoyed watching her.

She was intensely focused on his arousal between them, suddenly desiring to feel it again. Perhaps from a different angle this time. It was almost as if Sabin was reading her mind, because the kisses on her neck became more aggressive, and one of his hands was now kneading her breast, the other gently cupping her bottom and pulling her closer to his body.

Celes let out a throaty moan and pulled him in for a searing kiss as she ground her most intimate of areas against his, teasing his length at her entrance. Then, without warning, she re-positioned her hips, and guided him into her. Taking him all in at once.

“Oh… _fuck._ ” Sabin murmured as both hands came to her hips to hold her still for a moment. “Fuck…”

Celes swore as well. Not because it was painful. Quite the opposite. At this angle, he was deeper than he was the night before and was hitting something inside of her. She desperately wanted to experience an orgasm with him _inside_ of her this time rather than just from his very talented fingers.

Slowly, she lifted her hips and then sat back down. The hard marble of the tub was slightly uncomfortable on her knees, but she didn’t care. The water splashed around their bodies. Her rhythm must have frustrated Sabin, because she soon felt his hands tightly gripping her hips, guiding her to a slightly faster and even pace.

Then one of his hands was in between them, rubbing her pearl. It felt as if his fingers and manhood were hitting two sides of the same spot, and she thought she might explode. She felt so full, and he was so strong and hard, and the pressure was more than she could take. The feeling started in her toes and she found herself increasing the pace, water now splashing from the tub and onto the marble tiles of the floor.

“Sabin—I…oh _gods_. I’m going to…” She was now frantically riding him as his hand continued to press against her. Celes thought she may pass out.

“Yes…yes…For me, aziz-am.” He was also groaning, clearly holding back.

Then it hit her, and she felt her walls clamping on top of Sabin’s member as she spasmed. Her entire body was quaking with pleasure and she swore her vision nearly went out as she collapsed on top of him, wrapping her arms weakly around his shoulders.

It must have sent him over the edge as well, and he didn’t have the chance to pull out of her. As she was trembling on top of him in the throes of her orgasm, he gripped her hips firmly, ensuring he was pressed deep within her. She immediately had the sensation of him pulsing, and he groaned her name lustily. 

They both glowed in the aftermath, and Celes didn’t dare move. She could feel Sabin softening within her and knew he would have to withdraw soon. He was holding her close and rubbing his hands along her back. Celes pressed her cheek to his stubble-covered face and kissed the outside of his ear. She wanted to return the words. It was hard for her, but in this moment, she realized she didn’t think it was possible for two people to be closer together. More intimate.

“I—I...” She attempted to affirm softly in his ear. But couldn’t finish the statement.

She felt his arms tighten around her and he buried his face into her neck. “I know, Celes. I love you too. Man aashe ghe to hastam,” He replied huskily, and almost sounded relieved.

He shifted their bodies slightly so he could withdraw from her and as he pulled out, she whimpered. 

They sat that way in quiet companionship for several long moments, her on his lap as he rubbed her back mindlessly. She pulled back enough so she could look at his face and was disarmed at the love she saw shining in his eyes. 

Suddenly feeling exposed, Celes shifted her gaze to her surroundings. She felt slightly guilty about the mess they had made. Water was all over the floor and the tub would certainly need to be drained. 

Sabin seemed to sense her anxiety over it and gave her a quick peck on the lips. “Don’t worry about it.” He then gently pushed her off his lap and helped her stand. “Come on, Roni wants us for lunch soon.” Stepping out of the tub he grabbed a fluffy robe and offered it to her, wrapping it around her as she stepped out onto the cold marble. 

Sabin opted for simply securing a towel around his waist.

Celes couldn’t help but marvel at his upper body again as the water dripped down his bronzed muscles. He caught her staring and winked as he guided her back to the bedroom.

She found the bed made and her clothes had been laundered and pressed and folded neatly on top of the bed. There were also the few belongings she had in her bag, all clean and laid out for her.

While they both quickly dressed, Celes blushed furiously as she realized the staff must have heard them in the bathroom. The blush on the squire, Pierre’s, face confirmed that fact as they exited the room, along with two maids giggling slightly in another chamber. She was mortified, but Sabin seemed unbothered. He was always confident no matter what. And unashamed. She supposed that maybe this was par for the course in a castle. After all, he had grown up here, and walked around with a casual ease that was enviable.

Sabin looked back at her and shrugged, pulling her hand to his mouth to place a kiss on the back of it before guiding her through the winding hallways of the castle again.

He was wearing formal attire for once. Well, as formal as she had seen him in anyway. Clothing similar to Edgar, pants that were tight enough to show just how incredibly toned his legs were. A shirt that he left unbuttoned at the top, so she could admire the swell of his chest and his familiar claw necklace. He had rolled up the sleeves and she found herself running her free hand along his forearm, up his bicep when no one was looking, grateful that he opted not to wear the jacket that completed the outfit. 

She felt somewhat underdressed as they entered the palace parlor to find Edgar sipping tea, his legs crossed, reading some sort of official document. Then again, she only possessed about five pieces of clothing and all of them had been tailored to help her fight. Mostly leggings and tight leotards. She chose to not bind her breasts as she didn’t foresee the need to use her sword today and noticed Sabin’s eyes travel over her bosom appreciatively.

Edgar noticed as well, though he covered it up better than his twin. He also was smart enough to not ogle her right in front of Sabin. He stood as they entered and smirked slightly at Sabin, giving him a pat on the back. “Have a _productive_ evening, you two?”

Celes didn’t think she could get any more crimson than she already was.

He motioned for the two of them to sit and a maid appeared with a cup of tea for her. She sipped it quietly, unsure of what to do next. It felt strange to be doing something so traditional in a castle given that the world was still in shambles.

Edgar motioned to the document in his hand. “I figured the two of you would want to marry immediately. Especially after last night.” He winked at Sabin.

Celes nearly choked on her tea, but remain composed, hiding her face as best as she could behind the cup. Her cheeks flushed deeply.

“Heirs have to be legitimate, of course. So, we can’t be too careful.”

Celes was now coughing and Sabin jumped up to pat her none-too-gently on the back.

“Brother!” He growled at his twin as his forceful pats turned into a gentle rub.

Celes shook her head. Edgar was technically right. They really should marry right away, especially if they were going to continue their bedroom activities. There were rules in kingdoms, and this was certainly one of them. She should have thought this through better before she asked Sabin to make love to her last night. She guessed she was caught up in the high of their victory and the feeling of his lips on hers. The desire to feel even more alive was coursing through her.

Sabin must have known all that when he gave in to her though. He wasn’t stupid, and he certainly wasn’t the type of person who would sleep with someone without thinking about consequences. Or the type to casually take on a lover.

Besides, she refused to be reduced to someone’s concubine. She would never be some blushing bride—it was just a formality and a piece of paper. She didn’t plan on being with anyone else, she had never even planned on being with anyone _ever_. 

So, it didn’t really make a difference one way or the other, right?

It was what she had been thinking in the morning. Things were moving incredibly fast, yet it had been years of a slow burn leading to this moment.

She held up her hand. “It’s alright, Sabin. He’s right.”

Edgar clapped his hands. “Excellent! All you two need to do it sign this document and it is done. I’ve already placed your royal seal on it, Rene, it just needs your signature.” He stood and placed the scroll on a small card table in the parlor.

“You don’t have to…” Sabin was saying to her softly under his breath so his brother couldn’t hear.

Celes stood proudly and marched over to the table. “Do you not _want_ me, Sabin?”

Edgar glanced up from the document with a confused look.

Sabin held up his hands defensively. “More than…anything.” He admitted softly. “I just don’t want you to be forced into it if you aren’t--” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she replied as she scrawled her signature on the document.

Sabin followed her and signed his name next to hers. “That’s it?”

Edgar smiled. “That’s it! Of course, you need to consummate to make it official.”

Celes cast him a dirty look and to her surprise, Edgar pulled her into a hug. It was a hug that would rival Sabin’s strength.

“Welcome to the family,” he said fondly, then pulled back and her eyes widened as Edgar kissed her on the lips. He then turned and gave his brother a huge hug, leaving a stunned Celes next to him.

_Family…_ surely it wasn’t that simple. The kiss and warm words from Edgar made Celes realize that while this was merely a piece of paper to her, it meant something very different to the two royals. 

She was still in a state of shock over the whole thing, especially the unexpected kiss from Edgar. So, when she realized that Sabin was standing in front of her with a small box in hand, her jaw went slack. 

“This was my mother’s.” Sabin opened it to reveal a large ruby, set in a nest of diamonds. “Rubies are the traditional stone of Figaro. Proof you are now part of the royal family.”

She didn’t know what to say. 

“May I?” He gently extracted the ring from its case and pushed it onto her ring finger.

She was staring down at her hand mutely and Sabin appeared concerned. “Um…Celes?”

It was Edgar’s voice that snapped her to reality. “Kiss your bride, brother.”

Then Sabin’s warm arms were around her waist, pulling her into him as he kissed her without abandon. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Desert Nights**

**Chapter 3**

* * *

They sat in the formal dining room for lunch. A grand mahogany table that could seat thirty people easily, with the three of them at one end, Edgar at the head. It felt rather ridiculous, but it would be plain awkward if Sabin was sitting at the opposite end of the large table. Celes wondered when grand dinners would happen again. Would the castle repopulate even more with Kefka’s death? She knew Figaro’s people – correction— _her_ people now, were fiercely loyal to their home and King. They were also survivors. 

Figaro had a unique cuisine, though not unpleasant. The spicing was bold and the food strongly aromatic, they utilized every part of the animals they consumed, sitting on her plate was a chicken heart. They wasted nothing, though that was true for most places in the World of Ruin. Instead of a grand spread, only enough food for the small meal was placed in front of them. Times were still somewhat dire, even if the world was going to improve with Kefka no longer interfering. The land wasn’t nearly as fruitful as it once had been, but she was certain healing would take place now that he was out of the way.

The former general absentmindedly poked at a grape with her fork as Edgar and Sabin spoke. They kept slipping in and out of their native language and the common one—the language of Vector—they all shared. The language of Figaro was melodic and fast-moving. Beautiful in a strange way. She had her own language as well, though she never got to master it before she was taken from her home as a toddler. Cid had taught it to her growing up, and she was pleasantly surprised that the twins knew it as well. A discovery early on in their adventure.

Come to think of it, it _was_ rather strange that they spoke it. Though, being royal, they spoke many languages, having been privately tutored from a young age. Being multilingual was a critical skill for a future king. She had heard Sabin speak to Cyan in Doma, and Edgar spoke some strange dialect they used in Narshe. But hers…as far as she knew, her people didn’t exist anymore. She actually didn’t even know who they were—no one ever told her. Other than Cid, Leo, and the twins, she had never met anyone else who spoke like her. That also could have been because speaking in anything other than Vector was forbidden in the Empire.

The sparkle of the new ring on her finger caught her eye. She never cared for jewelry. It was stunning, she supposed, though terribly impractical. It clearly meant something to the twins, and likely was meaningful to Sabin to have her wearing his beloved mother’s ring. So, she would honor that wish.

This whole thing was mind-boggling. Was she really married now? She was on the Falcon less than thirty hours ago. Why were Sabin and Edgar acting so nonchalant?

Her hand moved before she had the sense to stop it. Slamming it loudly on the table so that the silverware and glasses clattered, she yelled. “This doesn’t make any sense!”

The brothers paused their conversation and looked over at her with bemused expressions. Sabin, especially. She didn’t miss the flash of apprehension that crossed his face.

“My dear beautiful sister-in-law…,” Edgar began. Sabin rolled his eyes. The king paid him no mind and continued. “The world was completely destroyed over two years ago, of course nothing makes sense. Now, we have the chance to fix it.”

“No, not that—”

“Surely, you _are_ used to us speaking like this. You’ve been around us for a while now. We will attempt to not speak Figaro for your sake—"

Celes huffed in slight irritation. “No. I mean— _this._ ” She held up her hand, the shimmering ruby catching the afternoon sunlight filtering in through the dining room windows. “So—that’s it? I’m married? You can do that? You two are acting like this is just any regular day. As if nothing has happened!”

One look at Sabin’s face and Celes realized her words had hurt him. Immensely. It must have sounded like she was rejecting him. Edgar seemed to be gazing at her with a more understanding look as he studied her face. He turned to his twin and murmured something she didn’t understand.

Sabin nodded and stood. Celes started to stand as well but was stopped by Sabin’s strong hand on her shoulder. “I need to meditate. To train. I’ll see you later.” He hesitated, before finally leaning down and kiss the top of her head.

“Sabin…”

He was out of the room before she could say anything else.

Edgar sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “He was always the emotional one, Celes.”

Celes turned to him, and the look on his face made it clear that she was not going to be leaving this table any time soon.

“As for your question. Of course, I can get you married. Do you forget that I am King?”

Celes narrowed her eyes at the tone. “Do you forget who _I_ am?”

Edgar smiled at her rebuttal. He always enjoyed going head-to-head with her in an argument. “You care deeply for my brother.” It was said as a statement instead of a question. “You wanted to be with him, did you not?”

“Yes.” She confirmed. “It just feels...”

The King chuckled. “Celes, the world is changing _again_. With the defeat of Kefka, Figaro needs to be stronger than ever and we need allies. Things are going to happen fast, as there is now a giant void. No Empire. No Kefka. Now is the time to be _decisive_. Besides, you know how precious and short life can be. Don’t you want to spend every minute you can with the people you love?”

She nodded.

“We need to build our allies. Negotiate. Re-open trade. The Kingdom needs someone who can go to places and speak with leaders on our behalf, someone with a flair for diplomacy. Someone to go see Cyan in Doma. Terra in Mobliz, for we will need her support as well. Strago in Thamasa.”

“Certainly, you would be the best person for that. Do you intend for Sabin and I to—stay here?” She refrained from saying ‘be stuck here’.

Edgar shook his head. “No. I must remain in Figaro. My people have been without me for too long.”

“I’m not sure if Sabin is the right person in terms of diplomacy. His best negotiating tactic is his fists.”

“No, Celes. I’m talking about _you_. You know how these things work, the politics, the agreements, the _acting_. And, you are a Figaro now, are you not? 

Celes gasped slightly. He was right. 

Edgar continued. “Rene is better at this than you think—he knows how to put on the prince act when he needs to. Look at how nicely he cleaned up for lunch. He can also double as the bodyguard for the ‘White Rose of Figaro’.”

“Do _not_ call me that.” She warned.

“Fine, the ‘Jewel of the Desert’.”

“Edgar…”

“The ‘Princess of the Sands’.”

Celes gritted her teeth in annoyance.

“Alright, alright, I’ll stop. We will discuss it more tomorrow. Plan. Figure out where to start. We can’t travel anywhere until we’ve mapped out a cohesive strategy, not to mention an actual physical map of the World. We’ll start with letter correspondence, initially…give everyone a chance to settle down and organize themselves. For now, look at your new quarters. I’ve moved the two of you to the east tower for privacy.”

Celes flushed at the implication, realizing that Edgar’s room was not that far from Sabin’s last night, and Sabin had ensured she was far from quiet.

Edgar grinned knowingly at her blush. “Make sure they are to your liking and let the housekeeper know if you need anything. And, please…reconcile with Rene. You saw his face when he left. I know you didn’t mean to hurt him.”

Celes nodded and stood from the table. Edgar was clearly in royal mode as he stood as well and bowed his head to her.

Before she could leave, he gently grasped her hand and placed a kiss on top of it. “Welcome to the family, Celes. _Truly_.”

* * *

The new quarters were exponentially larger than Sabin’s old room. Celes idly wondered if they used to belong to the King and Queen, though it seemed unlikely Edgar would put them there. It would probably make Sabin uncomfortable. Perhaps they were for visiting royals in the past. The four-poster bed was large enough for three full grown adults of Sabin’s size. A set of French doors led to a balcony overlooking the vast nothingness of the desert. Off the bedroom, an adjoining private study, filled with bookshelves, comfortable furniture, and artwork. The washroom was even larger than the one she had used that morning. She felt unnaturally warm at the memory.

It didn’t take her very long to put away her few meager possessions. She also found that someone had thoughtfully filled the closet and bathroom with other essentials for her.

She was staring out at the setting sun from the balcony when she felt strong arms wrap around her waist from behind. A bare, solid chest pressed against her back.

“Guess we got kicked out of the west tower, huh…” Sabin murmured into her hair.

He smelled like fresh soap and had clearly bathed after his workout. She tilted her head up to the side to look at him and noticed his hair was still damp and was not pulled back into a ponytail.

Pulling one of his arms away, he rustled behind her, before holding a small pouch in front of her face.

“What’s—” She asked, reaching to grasp the small bag.

“A mix of roots and herbs. So you won’t--” He gestured vaguely with his hand.

 _Get pregnant_. She had heard of such things.

“Oh.” She stared at the satchel, the spicy scent of the concoction making her nose tingle.

He placed a small kiss on the top of her shoulder. “I don’t want you stuck with something else you don’t want...or aren’t ready for.”

There was an emotion in his voice that Celes did not recognize. Did Sabin think she felt stuck with him? Did he misunderstand her outburst at lunch? Obviously.

She turned in his arms to face him and leaned up on her toes to kiss him firmly. “Sabin…” Grasping his face in her hands, she forced his eyes on hers, to convey her honesty. “I promise you, I am not unhappy,” she said earnestly, then released his face and moved her mouth close to his ear, whispering. “Besides, according to my understanding, we are not technically married _yet_. I think you need to show me what it _means_ to be the wife of the prince of Figaro.”

Sabin shuddered slightly and she could feel the relief pouring off him. He scooped her up into his arms and carried her bridal style back into the room before tossing her on the bed. “You asked for it,” he warned playfully, gazing down at her in the slowly waning sunlight. “I won’t have any mercy, you know.”

“I would expect nothing less.” Celes disrobed in front of him, taking care to do it as slowly as possible under his heated gaze. Once she was down to her panties and corset, she pulled the ribbons of it painstakingly slow, pausing at each hook. She could see Sabin’s hands twitching and could tell he wanted to take over. The last thing she removed were her panties, and she shimmied out of them, running her hands sensually along her legs as she did so. Finally nude, she sat on the bed before him, her body on display, trying to silently convey to him that she was his and _only_ his. For good. She beckoned to him with her fingers.

Sabin let out a low groan and she could see his desire through the thin fabric of his pants.

“Do you trust me?” He asked as he stalked closer.

“Completely.” She answered without hesitation.

“I want to try something.”

Instead of crawling over her like she expected, he gripped her ankles and tugged her effortlessly towards the edge of the bed, so her legs were dangling off the end. Pushing her knees apart, he sank to the floor in front of her. Licking his lips. Staring at the sight of her glory.

Celes’ heartbeat quickened. Was he going to--?

“Mon deiu!” She gasped as she felt his tongue on her, on that spot he seemed to find that drove her mad.

Suddenly, his thick calloused fingers were there as well, pushing inside her, pumping as he whirled his tongue. Sucked. She wasn’t sure she could hold on. There was an incredible pressure in her belly, and she felt like her body was on fire. One of her hands gripped at his hair, pulling, while the other clawed at the sheets. Anything to try and keep herself grounded. She had never felt so vulnerable and exposed in her life with his face so… _close_. And yet—she had never been more aroused.

He added another finger, sliding effortlessly within her slick flower. The sound of her own wetness made her keen with delight—forbidden, exotic. His tongue swirled around her pearl, fingers thrusting with precision. He’d speed up, then slow down, ensuring she had wave after wave of pleasure to ride. She instinctively wrapped her legs around his back and grasped the back of his head, pressing him close. Begging him not to stop. The feeling of his feverishly-thrusting fingers, the warmth of his mouth on her most intimate of areas—she was certain she was moments away from passing out. And yet, she wanted more. _Needed_ more. The pressure in her belly grew, as did the searing, passionate heat between her legs.

“Sabin…I…ohhhh…I need…”

She couldn’t see it, but he smirked between her legs, purposefully speeding up his already frenetic pace. Using his other hand to delicately spread her outer folds apart, he ran his tongue from bottom to top of her sex, savoring each drop of her. He hummed with lusty delight.

It was all she needed.

She climaxed with a loud scream that echoed through the room, her heart beating erratically in her chest. Celes was certain she saw stars.

Sabin withdrew his fingers, taking time to lick each one clean. He placed gentle kisses on the insides of her trembling thighs in the aftermath and she could feel his smile against her skin, the stubble of his face tickling her pleasantly. 

“Mmmmm, you taste so sweet,” he almost hummed his words, clearly euphoric. “Was that good enough? Or do you need more?” He asked teasingly, feigning innocence as he kissed her thigh again.

“I--gods, I can’t even…how did you—” She panted, blushing at the raw animalism of his words and tone. It made her quiver in anticipation over what he was going to do next.

Her question was never finished. He suddenly stood before her. His pants had been discarded at some point and he was rock hard, clearly aching to be inside of her. He stroked himself casually. Celes licked her lips, her eyes fixed on his shaft. She was still shaking as he lifted her hips off the bed, his strong arms holding her lower body up. Placing her ankles on his shoulders, he slid easily into her with a satisfied moan.

“Kharabetam...” He muttered huskily as he filled her completely.

Celes bit her lip in an attempt to contain her cries. This was by far the deepest he had been, and every time he thrust, he hit the very top of her. His hands supported her bottom, lifting her hips to join with him intimately. He soon found a pounding rhythm, each thrust rough, yet incredibly satisfying. Her whole body was quaking with his pace, her ample chest bouncing in time with his movements.

Her body already felt like every nerve ending was on fire from his previous attention, and she practically came undone at just the feeling of him entering her.

“So wet…and tight,” He groaned out lustily, quickening his pace.

Celes felt a mix of unbridled arousal and slight embarrassment at the candor and dirty sultriness of his words. Never had she heard anyone speak like that—and especially about _her._ She couldn’t take it anymore and clawed at the sheets, nearly ripping them off the bed as another orgasm rocked through her, one of her legs slipping off his shoulder and down to the floor.

Still, he didn’t relent, continuing to thrust as she spasmed around him. He was bending down now, pressing her body onto the bed, one leg resting on his shoulder, stretched easily up, his hand gripping her ankle to position her the way he wanted. He pushed her other knee up onto the bed, opening her even wider to his assault. She was flexible, and the angle was like nothing she had ever felt, every time he drove into her, she could feel him at the hilt.

“Open your eyes…” He panted. “I want—to see you. I want you…to see _me._ ”

She obliged and met his gaze. His eyes were glazed in a mix of lust and love as he stared at her, never stopping his aggressive pace. His chest was nearly on hers and his rough skin kept scraping against her nipples. A sensation she clearly did not mind, for her chest was tingling with ecstasy. She could feel the heat radiating off his body, and pulled him even closer, her hands instinctively clawing at his sweat covered back.

He shifted his hips slightly and it hit her in a spot she didn’t even realize existed. “Feel…how hard I am for you…” He grunted and she could tell he was close as well. “Right there…”

He clearly wanted to bring her to release again and the hand that wasn’t holding up her ankle came to her swollen nub, rubbing his thumb in circles on it, making sure she would _scream_ for him. 

“Yes! Right _there_ …Sabin…ahhh—don’t stop… _yes. Yes!”_ She moaned more loudly than either of them thought possible and tried to obediently keep his gaze as yet another orgasm washed over her. The sensation was overwhelming, and she couldn’t help but squeeze her eyes shut as she screamed his name, her arms clinging to him for dear life. He released her ankle and let her leg drop to his waist. She was kissing any skin her lips could find as she shook in his arms, one hand tugging at his loose hair while another raked across his back, nearly drawing blood.

He gave a loud groan, almost sounding like her name, and shoved inside her one last time, his own orgasm ending with a satisfied breath. Collapsing on top of her on the bed, he was nearly crushing her with his weight, but it was oddly comforting.

Sabin was kissing her cheeks and neck and ear, whispering words of love in multiple languages as they both tried to steady their breathing. He had not been lying when he told her he would have no mercy, and while she appreciated his gentleness the first few times they had been together, this was otherworldly.

She affectionately rubbed his cheek, his stubble catching slightly on her new ring. “That was…incredible.” She kissed him, out of breath. “ _Showhareh man.”_

Despite her terrible pronunciation, Sabin grinned happily and finally unsheathed himself from within her warmth. He scooted up the bed, guiding her along with him, before he settled back against the pillows, pulling her into the crook of his arm, so her head rested on his shoulder. “You have… _no_ idea what you do to me…”

Celes ran her hand along his chiseled abdomen and chest, appreciating every contour. “Even in the castle, he acts like a wild beast.”

“I don’t see you complaining over there. In fact, I’m _quite_ certain you like it.”

He turned his head and whispered into her ear, the hot breath tickling her pleasantly. “And I also think…you were so loud that everyone in the castle is gonna avoid this tower for a long, long time.” He was obviously proud of his ability to make her scream.

Celes felt her cheeks burn, realizing that they left the balcony door open. “Well, hopefully we are beyond the days where we have to hang our wedding night bedsheets for all to see. But, they still likely need proof of our union, don’t you think?” 

“Probably. Better to make sure they _absolutely_ know.” He sighed contentedly. “Gimme a little time and we’ll give it another go.”

A wild beast indeed. But she was certainly not complaining.

* * *

They lay in the bed together in silence, watching the moon rise from the open balcony. The desert wind was howling loudly, fluttering the curtains, and bringing a crisp, cold air into the room.

Sabin was sitting up against the headboard, idly running his hands through his lover’s hair. He had pulled back on a pair of loose sweatpants to combat the cool night air, but she was still nude, under the silk sheets. The cold never affected her, a side effect of the magicite—instead, she seemed to relish in its touch. She had fought in Narshe in nothing but a leotard without batting an eyelash. Celes rolled from her back onto her stomach to stare out into the night sky.

He realized he had never seen her bare back before. At least he had never really looked at it. Gash-like scars crisscrossed her pale skin. Raised and angry, interspersed with sporadic deep indentations. Her flesh was nearly completely covered with marks.

Tracing a finger over one of them, he felt her flinch slightly at the touch, but she did not protest. _Whip marks_ , he realized. More than just whips. _Flogs_. From her time in prison. When she was to be executed. Sometimes it was easy to forget who she had been before she started to aid the Returners. Forgot the way she came to be friends with all of them. If Locke had been in South Figaro a day later, Celes would not be alive today. Hell, Kefka would probably still be in power.

“This wind reminds me of the Serpent Trench,” he said softly, still carefully tracing her marred back.

Celes had closed her eyes, seeming to relish in the soft massage he was giving her. “I’m fine not being reminded of that.”

Sabin chuckled. “Hey, it wasn’t all bad.”

“Sleeping outside on crusted salty earth? Barely any food? No bath for two months? Smelly monsters?”

“Well, those parts sucked. No, I mean…we would talk on nights like these. A lot. I had a pretty kick-ass partner back then, you know.”

Celes smiled at that but said nothing.

They did often talk in the dark when it was just the two of them on their journey. Sabin quickly noticed that she was the most honest at night, in the dark, with her back turned to him, when he couldn’t see her face. Expressing her fears. Her doubts. He supposed that was still true. Those were some of his best memories of her, despite how dire the circumstances were. It’s when he truly got to know her. It’s when he fell in love with her.

“Celes…”

“Hmmm.” She responded.

“What if it hadn’t been me?”

She swallowed hard, her voice quiet when she responded. “What do you mean?”

“What if—it hadn’t been me you found first? Would we be here right now?”

Celes sighed. “I don’t think like that, Sabin. What if Leo hadn’t died? What if Locke was too late in getting me out of prison? What if Doma wasn’t poisoned by Kefka? What if the world wasn’t destroyed? We can’t live in the past. What’s done is done. We are here _now_. And I am grateful for that.”

She turned over and rested her head on his lap, gazing up at him. There was an openness in her eyes that he rarely saw. “I know one thing,” she confessed softly. “I never would have made it, had I not found you. You were who I _needed._ ”

“Celes—”

She averted her eyes, but continued to speak. “It’s the truth, Sabin. You were the only one who could have made it right. You knew how to make me laugh when I needed it. Kept me from getting too depressed. From going mad like—like _him._ You gave me hope.”

Sabin had never thought of it that way. Celes had always valued him as a battle and travel companion. She also tended to live too much in her head, and he learned early on how to draw her out. But he always underestimated the darkness inside of her. He could never manage to see her in that way. Never believed that she had the potential to be as insane as Kefka. Yet, deep down, he knew that was her greatest fear—that the magicite would one day claim her sanity.

He pulled her up to straddle his lap and hugged her closely to his body, burying his face into the crook of her neck. “Hamsar-am.”

* * *

Far away, in the remains of the Fanatic’s Tower, a man sat on a broken throne. He was pleased with the turn of events in the World of Ruin. Getting Kefka out of the way gave him the chance to take what had always been meant for him. His birthright. His destiny.

Those sand rats in Figaro and their friends had done him a great service, and the world was now ready for a new Emperor.


	4. Chapter 4

**Desert Nights**

**Chapter 4**

* * *

Celes had been the official princess of Figaro for nearly six months now. 

While at first people were extremely apprehensive of her, given that she was the Imperial General who invaded South Figaro in the first place, they quickly warmed up after learning she disagreed with the occupation of Figaro to the point where she was jailed. They warmed up _even more_ when they found out she had defeated Kefka. The icing on the cake was the fact that they not only credited her with bringing their wayward prince home, but he finally seemed happy.

Celes had adjusted to living life in a castle again. Though—adjusting to people in her private chambers was a practice she did not wish to accept. She let the maids know she would dress herself unless she was getting ready for some formal event, where it took more than one person to get her into some oppressive stuffy gown. She still preferred to wear her own, comfortable clothing, and only wore a dress when she had to. Celes had convinced Edgar to allow their floor of the tower to be off limits to the staff, especially if Sabin and she were there. Only two specific maids and the squire, Pierre, were the ones who came to their door, or even ghosted that story of the tower. 

She had a suspicion about Pierre’s _personal_ preferences. It was all but confirmed when the poor guy practically stumbled over himself one of the many times Sabin would answer their door with _very_ little clothing on. It went completely over Sabin’s head, despite her trying to gently hint at it. If Sabin ever opened the door completely naked, the poor young man would probably have a heart attack. Sabin in all his glory was _quite_ a sight to behold. 

The palace had quickly repopulated after the defeat of Kefka, with many people returning to Figaro and re-establishing the rule of order. She didn’t fail to notice the wistful glances that many women, and the occasional man, cast at the twins. The ones that still sighed as Sabin passed by were quickly setting all of their attention (and claws) onto Edgar. Naturally, Edgar didn’t mind one bit. 

Word travelled fast of their union throughout Figaro. Celes had personally informed Terra, and knew Sabin had told Gau and Cyan. They had not heard from Locke yet, which did not come as a huge surprise—Celes doubted he had been told of what had transpired between her and Sabin. It was better that conversation happened in person, anyway. 

Everyone seemed to be thriving. She and Terra wrote to each other almost twice a week and she treasured those letters. She suspected Terra did as well. Terra had found deep purpose in running her orphanage out of Mobliz. 

She and Sabin had fallen into a routine as well. _A lot_ of that routine involved the bedroom. The man was insatiable, not that Celes minded. She chalked it up to the fact that he had been celibate until he was thirty. His hands and mouth had already memorized every inch of her skin and knew what made her tick. It was almost unfair. There were two sides to the man. The prince, who was a passionate and attentive lover, and the travelling monk who killed monsters with his bare hands. That part of him was an animal in the bedroom—and a dirty talker. Celes suspected even Edgar would be shocked by some of the things Sabin said. 

A lot of her time was spent with Edgar. They would pour over maps of the new world, working with cartographers to exact locations from their memories. Strategize. Plan. Argue. Sometimes Sabin would run his katas in the middle of the palace so he could be the arbitrator of their arguments. One would be astonished to realize how many verbal tiffs were started by a disagreement over forest locations. Mostly, he was there to placate Celes if their arguments got particularly heated. He was extremely good at calming her temper. His laughter and general care-free demeanor had that effect on her. It always had, which is what made him such a perfect companion.

She was fond of her time with the King. Edgar clearly respected her immensely, and the two of them combined were a formidable political force. They had already established farms and towns outside the desert barrier of the castle. Now, Figaro needed an airship. Hopefully more than one, eventually. It would create jobs and also give them an advantage globally, with chances to open up trade. 

Unfortunately, for that, they needed to meet with Setzer to figure out a design Figaro’s engineers could turn into something tangible.

Celes was not particularly looking forward to that meeting, knowing that more than likely Setzer’s price would be astronomically high. And _not_ monetarily. She was secretly thankful she was already married, because otherwise she wouldn’t be surprised if he tried to trade her freedom for the airship. She never liked the man. Frankly, he gave her the creeps. He was yet another man who viewed her as a chess piece, _but_ , he had been a necessity in their adventure because he was the only one with an airship. He was, unfortunately, a necessity once again.

She was sitting in her study, in the process of writing all of these thoughts down on a letter to Terra when a knock on her door interrupted her. She opened it curiously, as she wasn’t expecting anyone, and Sabin was training.

“Pierre?”

The young squire was fidgeting, and she caught sight of her two maids some distance away, waving at Pierre as if to encourage him.

“Is everything okay?” She asked, glancing between Pierre and the pair of maids.

“Princess…I need to tell you something.”

The tone of his voice made Celes feel a moment of panic and her hand grasped at the doorframe as if to steady herself. Had something happened to Sabin? Or Edgar?

Pierre must have seen the color drain from her face because he quickly held his hands in front of him. “I didn’t mean to scare you, princess! No one is hurt. Please don’t tell the Shahzadeh...he will kill me if he thinks I upset you.”

Immediately relieved, Celes quickly composed herself. “Don’t be silly, Sabin wouldn’t—” Then again, he probably would. Well, not kill him, but terrify him for sure. Sabin was fiercely protective of her to the point where it was nearly comical. 

Pierre lowered his voice. “Princess, it’s about the council…”

* * *

Sabin enjoyed being a married man and felt especially lucky with his new wife. In a weird way, it felt like nothing had changed--even though everything had. She still slept next to him, similar to when they were travelling on their journey, but now she slept naked, and he got to _sleep_ with her. So, maybe things _had_ changed somewhat. 

Sabin wrote to Cyan almost weekly and was happy to discover that Gau was spending half of his time at Doma Castle. He figured that was good for the youth, living in between the Veldt and Doma. Cyan gained a son after losing one, and Gau gained a father that didn’t reject him. Initially, he had wanted to bring Gau to Figaro, but knew that would not work. Sabin had also told Cyan about his nuptials and the older man seemed unsurprised but extremely happy for him. However, something in Cyan’s letters had been bothering him over the last few weeks, and he figured it was time to bring it up with his brother. He didn’t want to burden Celes with it.

“Joon-am.” He kissed the top of her head gently, “I need to go talk to Roni.”

She moaned something incoherent that _sounded_ like she understood, and rolled on to her side. He had made sure she was well-satisfied, and sleep would come easily for her.

Sabin started to slip out of the bed when her icy hand shot out and grabbed his, giving it a gentle squeeze, before retreating back under the covers she had pulled up to her chin. It had become sort of a code between them. Her way of telling him she loved him. She still had never _actually_ said the words, despite the many times he told her. But he knew.

Donning only a pair of pants that hung low on his hips and left very little to the imagination, Sabin quietly padded out of the room, shutting the door as softly as he could behind him. He didn’t expect to encounter anyone other than guards in the castle considering the hour. He passed by Pierre at the bottom of the stairwell, who was apparently on duty. 

Sabin gave a smile and a nod to Pierre, who simply looked at his feet, his face red. The squire was almost always flustered around him for some reason.

As he walked away, he heard Pierre call out. “I will…watch the princess with my life, Sire.”

Sabin gave a wave of acknowledgement and appreciation over his back as he continued to walk through the castle to the west tower, where his brother’s chambers were. Celes hardly needed protection. She was a former Imperial General. She could probably take out an entire platoon without breaking a sweat, so he wasn’t really worried. The sentiment was nice though.

The guard at the end of the hallway leading to his brother’s room saluted him as he passed by. The man seemed to want to say something, but did not.

Sabin rapped on the door, loud enough so that if Edgar was sleeping, he would wake up. He could hear rustling behind the door, and more than one voice.

Edgar never _could_ help himself. Sabin sighed and said loud enough to be heard through the door. “It’s me, Edgar.”

They only used each other’s middle names in very select company and preferred to keep them private. Names given from their mother. Not knowing who was in the room with his twin, he erred on the side of caution and called him by his first name. Likely, it was not someone who Edgar would want to share something so personal with.

The door opened a crack and Edgar peaked out, clearly trying to adjust a pair of boxer-briefs over his waist. “What is it? Is everything okay?”

“I need to talk to you about something.”

The King opened the door all the way and gestured for Sabin to enter. There was a naked, extremely attractive, exotic-looking brunette in Edgar’s bed. She seemed vaguely familiar.

The woman stood, unabashedly nude, and sauntered through the room, clearly putting herself on display. Sabin pointedly did not look at her and turned his back, heading towards Edgar’s private study. Some of the courtesans in Figaro could be painfully desperate, the woman was clearly advertising herself for when she was eventually rejected by Edgar. Sabin had zero desire to take a concubine. Celes was nearly more than he could handle as it was.

He sank down into one of the comfortable chairs in Edgar’s study and was quickly joined by his twin, who had pulled on a robe. The woman appeared in the doorway, this time wearing a slip that left very little to the imagination.

“Ala Hazrat,” she bowed down, lower than she had to, clearly making sure her cleavage was on display for both men. Sabin gave her a look that made it obvious she was barking up the wrong tree, but remained polite. She turned then, towards Edgar and came into the room, apparently intent on being part of their conversation. She was trying to sit on his brother’s lap when Edgar held up a hand.

“You can leave now.”

“But—" The woman started.

Edgar just stared at her, silently. Waiting.

She left with a huff and both brothers waited until they heard the door clicking shut to speak.

“Who was that?” Sabin asked bluntly.

“Wednesday.”

“ _Wednesday_?”

Edgar grinned. “I mean, Salome. I see her every Wednesday.”

Sabin rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. “Ummm…you’re careful, right?”

“Of course! I never leave protection up to them.”

_Them_. Sabin really didn’t want to know how many women were in Edgar’s rotation. More like a harem.

“Roni…”

Edgar sighed and stood, pouring two glasses of Figaro scotch, handing one to Sabin. “Is this really why you came here? We are not all as lucky as you in finding your partner. I’ve never been a monk, I didn’t take any crazy vow, and there is no way I’m waiting until a wedding night to know if I’m compatible with someone. Besides, it’s fun. I intend to make sure I find a good fit, especially since…” He trailed off.

“Especially since?” Sabin prompted, taking a sip of the strong drink.

“I’m getting pressured to marry and produce an heir.”

Sabin remained silent.

Edgar pressed on. “Mainly, because _you_ have not.”

Sabin took another sip of his drink, but said nothing.

“Why haven’t you? The council is starting to talk. You’ve been married for six months and I _know_ you’ve had plenty of opportunities. You are hardly the epitome of discretion.”

Sabin shrugged. “It’s up to her. I’m not going to force her to be some breeding mare.”

Edgar stroked his chin thoughtfully. “So, she’s taking contraceptives…”

“Celes is only twenty-two, Roni.”

“That was how old mother was when she had us. I had been King for five years by that age. Celes is not an innocent fool, Rene. She grew up in Vector! Do you really think she doesn’t understand the duties of being a royal? She _knew_ that when she married you. It’s her _obligation_ to give you a son. Even if I think it’s ridiculous…it’s how it is.”

“We will… _eventually_. I think. Of course I want to…but, Roni, it’s _her_ choice.”

Edgar sighed deeply. “I know…trust me, I know. I would not force anything on her either. Especially not after the life she has had—but, the council is going to start pestering you soon. They will be much pushier than I am.”

Sabin groaned. This is exactly why he fled the castle all those years ago. Pointless politics about succession. Where the crown became more important than the person. The entire conversation left a sour taste in his mouth and made him forget why he came in the first place.

Edgar’s voice interrupted his self-moaning. “Enough talk of heirs. I’m actually glad you’re here. There was something I wanted to show you.”

The King pulled a few books from the elegant built-in shelves in his study. One looked slightly familiar.

“Maman’s journal?” Sabin realized what it was. He felt slightly uncomfortable, it didn’t feel right to be reading his mother’s private thoughts. Even if it was all they had left of her after she died.

“Yes. I’ve been reading to help me figure out how to rebuild Figaro. It turns out Mother was a pretty shrewd and brilliant politician. Anyway, something has been bothering me about Celes.”

“Celes?” Heat flashed over Sabin’s face.

“Her native language, to be precise. She said it was the language of her own people, right? Meaning, she wasn’t originally from Vector.”

Sabin ‘hmmm-ed’ thoughtfully. Celes had been taken from her homeland when she was very young and brought to Vector. The only reason she knew anything about her heritage was because of Cid. She had once told him how happy she was that the twins spoke her language. There were very few people left who spoke it. He had only met a handful and it wasn’t particularly useful from a political standpoint. It made him wonder why _they_ were taught it growing up.

“Look, Rene,” Edgar had opened the journal to a certain page, pointing to a paragraph.

Sabin guiltily looked at the worn leather journal and began to read. “Hey, this is written in…”

“Celes’ language. Which was Mother’s language. It’s why we know it. She wasn’t from Figaro, remember?”

Sabin nodded. “She was from somewhere up north, right? It doesn’t exist anymore…Dad refused to talk about her after she died.”

Edgar grabbed a large book and placed it on the table, opening it to a bookmarked page and pointing to a mark on an old map of the World of Balance. “A small kingdom. Not even really a kingdom. A fiefdom. Ternes was the name. Mother was the only child of the ruler. Our parents’ marriage was a political one.” Edgar pointed to the paragraph in the diary again. “Read this, it explains everything.”

Sabin sighed and started to read once more, uncomfortable over the whole ordeal. The entry was written on the twins’ first birthday. “She intended for one of us to go live there when we came of age and rule? To marry someone from Ternes? And the other to stay here in Figaro?”

“Exactly.”

“What happened?”

Edgar pointed to the text of the large book and Sabin scanned the page.

“Gestahl must have somehow caught wind of the plan. One of his first moves in establishing power was demolishing Ternes. There was a steward on the throne at the time. A trusted younger friend of the deceased King. He was holding the throne for…one of us…”

Sabin’s eyes widened. “That happened when we were twelve. Maman had already passed by then…” Five years before their father was poisoned by the Empire. He was surprised he didn’t remember more about the massacre at Ternes, but then again at an early age, Edgar was always the more serious student and Sabin was focused on getting stronger.

“There were three known survivors of that invasion. Their most promising swordsman, a fifteen-year-old named Leo. A genius inventor in his twenties named Cid. And…the young daughter of the steward. She is not named. They all were taken to Vector.”

Sabin was speechless. His mind whirled. So Celes was from his mother’s homeland? Maybe Cid was protecting her even then? Keeping her alive as a baby by offering his knowledge of magicite. No wonder Cid taught her the language. 

Edgar continued, obviously noting his brother’s shock—and understanding. “Almost everyone that was in Ternes was slaughtered. Some had already scattered to the far corners of the World before the invasion. Part of me wonders if the invasion was to acquire Cid. Vector was failing at magicite infusion, and he was _the_ expert. For some reason they chose to take Celes to Vector as well. They must have _seen_ something in her that made them want to experiment—"

“Stop.” Sabin buried his face in his hands. “ _Stop_. I _know_ what they did to her. I _know_ the side effects.”

“I’m sorry.” Then, to Sabin’s surprise, Edgar chuckled. “Celes may have ended up your bride had the World been normal. Do you realize that?”

She very well could have. Sabin, being the younger twin, would have been the one sent to Ternes. And marrying the daughter of the steward would have made sense, even if she was nine years his junior. It wasn’t that uncommon for royals to get married young—he could have waited for her to come of age. “Have you told Celes any of this?”

Edgar shook his head. “No. I thought it should come from you.”

* * *

As Sabin made his way back to his own quarters, he realized he failed to tell Edgar about Cyan’s letters. Next time they spoke, it would be at the forefront. Now, he desperately wanted to inform Celes of his conversation with Edgar. Leaving out the bits about getting pressured to knock her up, of course.

When he entered their chambers, he quickly realized she was not in their bed. It was one in the morning. A moment of panic hit him, and he felt his adrenaline surge, his heart racing and finger tips twitching. Where _was_ she? 

A cool breeze hit him, and he realized the door to the balcony was open. Relieved, he stepped out onto the cold stone to find her in nothing but an ornate short silk robe, arms wrapped around herself, staring out at the moon and stars.

“You’re back.” She whispered softly, not turning around to face him, but continuing to stare at the sky.

He stepped behind her and pushed her hair to the side, so he could place a kiss on the side of her neck. “Why are you awake, joon-am?”

Celes slowly turned around to face him. “I had a dream. I couldn’t fall back to sleep.” 

He knew she often had trouble sleeping. Probably because for years, while she slept, they experimented with magicite on her. Sleep rarely came as a comfort to her, and he was used to waking up to her nightmares.

She leaned up and kissed him gently on the lips, her familiar icy hand trailing down his bare chest and abdomen. Tracing a finger along his hipbone, she made her way to his quickly responding manhood and began stroking him through his loose pants. Her mouth was on his and she was sucking his bottom lip, her teeth grazing it lightly. It was always like that with her. All she had to do is lick her lips in his direction and he would start to get hard. “Maybe you can…help me get back to sleep?”

“Celes, I really need to talk to you—” He began, intent on stopping her. He needed to tell her what he had discovered. But her lips were following the path her hands had just taken, and were kissing down his body until she was kneeling in front of him, tugging his pants down. He _really_ did not want to stop her, and _really_ wanted to see what she was about to do, but the rational part of his brain somehow managed to take over.

Grabbing her by the wrists, he yanked her up, more roughly than he meant to and pinned her arms to her sides. “Celes,” he said in a strained voice. “ _Please.”_

Celes let out a startled yelp, wriggling in his grip, pushing forward so she could press her curves against him. She, apparently, was just as intent as him. It had become a challenge and she was failing to see the seriousness in his tone.

Pushing both of her arms behind her back, he grabbed her wrists into one of his hands, arching her body up against his. Threading his free hand through her flowing hair, he cradled the back of her head and pulled her into a searing kiss. He pulled back a fraction, his lips brushing against hers as he spoke. “Woman, listen to me. I _promise_ I will pleasure you senseless. You will not be able to move for hours after I am done with you. But, _please_ , I need to talk to you first.”

She let out a satisfied moan against his lips. “Alright.” 

He kissed her one more time before letting her go. “Thank you.” 

Sabin flopped down with a heavy sigh on the chaise on their balcony. “Now, come here.” He beckoned, pulling her onto his lap and wrapping his arms around her. One of her hands reached back to scratch his scalp pleasantly, and he nestled his chin over her shoulder.

“What do you need to talk about?” She sounded genuinely curious. Sabin never turned down anything in the bedroom, so it had to be important.

“What did Cid tell you about your homeland?”

A puzzled expression crossed her face, this was likely not what she was expecting. “He…just that I wasn’t from Vector. He told me language was important and it shouldn’t be lost, so he taught me the language of my people. But, you know that already.”

“Did he ever tell you the name of the region? The country itself?”

She shook her head. “He said it was safer if I didn’t know—that I should just consider myself from Vector. To never speak the language in front of others. I made the mistake once. Leo and I used to practice, he spoke it too, if you can believe it. I accidentally let something slip in public. I was thirteen or fourteen, I think. Someone reported me to Gestahl.”

So, Leo had never told her that he was also from Ternes, and it seemed like Cid hadn’t as well. Cid kept her alive by offering her as a subject of magicite infusion experimentation. Hardly a great deal for her.

Celes continued. “People from the inner court had the honors of punishing me. I was beaten so badly; I couldn’t open one of my eyes for over two weeks. Broke four ribs. Broke two of my fingers in my non dominant hand—told me if I ever did it again, I’d be raped. I never made that mistake again.”

Sabin tightened his grip around her, blinking a few tears from his eyes. Celes was almost mechanical when she talked about things like this—her time in Vector and her time in prison. He sometimes wondered why she didn’t defect earlier. While she had _some_ physical freedom in Vector, she was still a human experiment who was censored to the point where she was beaten and eventually sentenced to death. Maybe she knew that. She knew speaking out against what the Empire was doing in South Figaro would be the last things she ever said. She was okay with dying. And she was only eighteen at the time. 

Interrupting his racing thoughts, Celes tilted her head back and kissed the side of his jaw. “What’s this all about, Sabin?” 

He was shocked at how quickly she could talk about something so horrific and then switch back into the surprisingly affectionate vixen in his lap. There were many compartments in that head of hers, and he figured it was the result of her traumatic childhood.

“Let me start by telling you about my mother…”


	5. Chapter 5

**Desert Nights**

**Chapter 5**

* * *

The knowledge of her heritage had been weighing on Celes more than she would admit. 

Leo and Cid had been the only two people in Vector she had ever trusted, and the fact that they had not been completely honest with her made her feel…violated. Why was she the lone survivor of a massacre left to experiment on? Leo survived because of his skill with the sword and went on to be a great general—until he was murdered by Kefka. And Cid had been an obvious asset to Vector given his knowledge of magicite. But, why her? Sure, she had become an infamous general herself, but she had been raised that way. There would have been no way anyone could have predicted that during her childhood.

Did Cid bring her to Vector knowing she would be a human guinea pig? Or maybe it wasn’t Cid…rather, Gestahl who saw something in her? She was fairly certain she was the only true success of large-scale magicite infusion. Unless Kefka had initially been considered a success—only to go mad within a few years. No one else survived it. At least not at the dosing she was given. Was there something unique about _her_?

When Sabin told her about Ternes, it was as if something awakened in her mind. She kept having flashes of memories, people—without knowing if they were real or imagined. Phantoms haunted her in her sleep—even more than before.

“Ma’am?” The young man standing in front of her startled her out of her musing.

“Sorry?”

“Are you ready to go again, Ma’am?” He asked hesitantly, lifting up his training sword.

She nodded, taking up a fencing stance. “Yes. En guard!”

Their swords clashed. Celes was easily able to land a hit on her opponent within a few seconds, parrying and jabbing him in the shoulder.

“Touché,” he conceded. And he was the best swordsman in Figaro aside from the King.

Celes had earned a reputation around the castle as an excellent swordsman. Many of the soldiers in Figaro underestimated her and came to test her abilities in the training area. And every single one of them went home licking their wounds. She had been a general in the Imperial Army, they were foolish to think they could best her. Still they came and challenged, and she agreed in good sport. A few were even talented enough to give her a good, honest workout. This current opponent was on such soldier. Pausing to pull her hair up into a ponytail, she readied herself. “Again,” she commanded for the twentieth time that day.

“Ma’am…” He hesitated, panting slightly. It was clear that Figaro’s new princess was a ruthless warrior underneath the beautiful exterior.

“En guard.”

She was about to attack when she realized that she had an audience. It was not uncommon for some of the soldiers, and even the occasional courtesan to come and watch her duel. Celes was used to audiences when she was in the training area of the castle. It did not bother her. 

Her husband’s unexpected presence, however, _did._

She paused, her eyes no longer watching her opponent as she caught his face in the crowd. Sabin clearly noticed her hesitation as she spotted him and stepped forward, quickly putting himself in between the two. “Celes,” he smiled at her and gave her a wink. “Fight _me_. Give the poor kid a break.”

Celes arched an eyebrow at him. “You’re serious?” Edgar would duel with her sometimes, he was quite skilled with the blade, but she had never trained with Sabin.

Sabin moved to kick up a practice sword and catch it easily in his hand. The soldier scurried away, grateful for the break. He simply stared at her, smirking.

Celes hmphed. She had never seen Sabin wield a sword. He always fought with his bare fists or claws. Naturally, he sported a laid-back casual pose, as if the sword wasn’t even in his hand. Shooting him a very quick smile, she set her face to a stony resolve. “I’m not going to go easy on you.”

“ _Good_. En guard!”

Sabin’s skill surprised her. Then again, he had probably trained with a sword from a very young age in the castle. It made perfect sense. He was not as good as her, though, and after a few frustrating minutes she finally managed to land a blow. It took longer than she would have guessed. Longer than she would have _liked._ Celes was an extremely proud person, and her way around a blade was one of the things she was most proud of.

Sabin was ever playful as they sparred, keeping up his jovial demeanor and smile compared to her serious, icy exterior. Of course, he was anything but traditional. Instead of avoiding a strike by parrying with his blade, he would dodge and duck and move his body in a graceful dance. She was getting frustrated at not being able to land hits quicker, and it was obvious to Celes by the cocky smirk on Sabin’s face that he knew it.

They finally paused, Celes now glistening with sweat. She wiped her brow and glared defiantly at him, clearly ready for another round.

The monk grinned and tossed the sword to the ground. “My way this time. You keep the sword. I’ll use my fists.”

Celes’ lips curled into a smile as she stared at him, appreciating how attractive he was in that moment. Any improper thoughts were quickly quelled as she realized they had a sizable audience, not just regular soldiers and occasional courtiers, but nearly everyone from the castle. Even Edgar himself.

She immediately went on the offensive. Sabin was inhumanly fast despite his size, dodging her attacks with ease. Before she realized it, he was directly before her, uncomfortably close, making it impossible to strike him with the blade. He gave her a lopsided smirk and tapped her gently on the nose before leaning down and stealing a quick peck from her lips. A death sentence to be sure, and he knew it. Celes _never_ allowed public displays of affection.

Celes frowned in frustration in the face of his bravado. “Touché…” She conceded before placing a hand on his strong chest, shoving him back, and readying her sword. “Again.”

She was ready this time, and as he went to grab her around the waist, she spun and ducked, whipping her sword up like a baton across his rock-hard stomach. He let out an oomph at the impact, but there was a smile on his face. _Payback_.

“Touché.” He gasped out before leaning down to whisper in her ear. “I like your hair up like that—it’s sexy.”

She shook her head to hide her grin before she went back to her starting position. “ _Again_.”

This time the blows did not stop at the concede of a hit. They continued to spar. Trading equal blows, with Celes jabbing him with the wooden training sword, and Sabin resorting to gently tapping her skin, often letting his hand remain there for too long, whenever he saw an opening.

Already fatigued from her hour of training before their spar began, Celes finally made her mistake. Parrying forward, she allowed Sabin to leap behind her. She knew she was doomed the second she lost sight of him.

Before she could turn around, she felt two strong arms wrap around her, effectively pinning her arms to her side, his warm body pressed up behind her. 

He whispered huskily in her ear so no one else could hear. “Surrender yet?” His palms flattened against her stomach, his biceps still preventing her arms from moving. He knew better than to let go—she would attack even now if she could.

She shivered at the feeling of his breath on her ear, her chest heaving with unwelcomed euphoria. How dare he do this to her? Here in the courtyard, in front of all these people? In front of Edgar? Shifting against his body in an attempt to get leverage, she was made very aware that she was not the only one enjoying this. “You know me better than that.”

Sabin nuzzled into her neck. “Truce, then…”

Celes reluctantly dropped her sword. As Sabin loosened his embrace, she tried to wriggle away, only to have him turn her to face him. She knew everyone was watching—and she knew what he wanted. A kiss.

He smirked, and before she could object, he leaned down and pressed his lips against her own. The stubble on his chin tickled her face. 

As much as she hated being put on the spot—especially in a moment of lust—she just couldn’t refuse him. The way his arms felt around her body, the musky scent of sweat lingering, the thundering of his heart pounding against her breasts—she was helpless against him. Celes conceded and melted into his embrace. Onlookers be damned.

After a long moment of passion, a courtesan in the audience sighed wistfully, and a few cheered. It was apparent they were _all_ enjoying this rare sight. But it wasn’t until Edgar’s voice boomed through the courtyard that the couple finally parted.

“I think we’re done here, wouldn’t you agree— _brother_?” The king stared at him as the crowd dispersed. As he approached, he lowered his voice. “Now I understand why you two never train together.”

As Sabin hugged Celes close to his body, he bellowed out a great, defiant laugh. At least someone was finding this funny. She was still quite uncomfortable, even though she had finally relented to the public display of affection. If she knew Sabin like she thought she did—he was relishing deeply in the fact that he had got away with anything at all.

“Come now, Roni, you know I can’t pass up an opportunity to hone my amazing skills.” Sabin sighed happily. “It just so happens that I have a fierce warrior to practice with.”

“The both of you never cease to amaze.” Edgar then turned to Celes, his tone becoming serious. “I need to speak with you. About our guest next week. Meet me at five? Give you a chance to clean up?”

* * *

The couple found themselves back in their bedroom, peeling off sweat-drenched clothes and heading to their washroom. Standing in the shower area, they poured buckets of cold water over themselves, rinsing the salty grime from their bodies.

Celes turned away to let Sabin wash himself, immediately catching the familiar strong soapy smell she had grown to love on his skin. She was busy rinsing the shampoo from her hair when the smell was replaced with another one—lavender. It was the soap the maids had put in the bathroom especially for her.

His hands tangled in her now clean hair, before twisting it into a rope and tugging slightly, causing her head to fall back. Placing a soft kiss on her exposed neck, he shifted the hair over her shoulder, so it cascaded down her chest. She was about to turn around to kiss him when she felt Sabin’s hands on her scar-covered back, holding a lavender-scented cloth, gently rubbing along her skin. He worked his way across her back and shoulders down to her bottom. A small giggle escaped her lips when she felt a soft kiss followed by a nibble on her butt cheek. 

He was now washing her strong thighs, spending far more time there than he probably needed. She instinctively opened her legs slightly for him, and his fingers kept not-so-accidentally brushing against her outer folds, separating them slightly. She was always eager for his touch—and he knew it.

Finally, he stood and reached around her to grasp each arm, slowly moving the cloth from her hands to her shoulders, his strong body flush behind her. She could feel his growing need in between their bodies as he continued to move along her skin. His free hand followed the path the cloth took, ghosting across the skin of her collarbones and down to her bosom. Once he reached her chest, the cloth dropped to the ground with a wet thunk and his hand began to massage one of her breasts, unable to fully encase it in his palm. He pinched her nipple and tugged slightly, and she let out a soft moan in response as his other hand snaked across her belly and down in between her legs. Shifting his hips so that his swollen manhood could slip between her thighs, he began to rub against her slit, coating himself with her growing wetness.

Instead of touching her, like she expected, he reached for her hand, grasping it gently and guiding it with his own, to her core. He maneuvered her fingers with his own, showing her how to touch her most sensitive area, as he continued to slide between her thighs, now soaked with her essence.

She gasped audibly and heard him let out a content hum before planting kisses along the sensitive skin of her neck. “So wet, already…” Suddenly, his mouth was at her ear, nibbling gently at her lobe. “I want you…” He whispered huskily, his hand continuing to work with hers until she was whimpering. His knee was gently pushing between her legs, willing them further apart.

It was a statement and a request. They had never made love in this position before, and Celes found herself extremely aroused—and also curious how it would feel with him behind her. Ever the gentleman, Sabin still asked her permission—in his own way. Knowing him, he probably worried she would feel dirty like this—after all it’s how the whores slept with their customers. It was quite taboo, but its not like anyone would _know_. 

Celes found herself exhilarated, aroused, and _very_ curious. Opening her thighs and pushing her hips back, she braced herself on the wall of the shower with her free hand. Silently giving her consent.

He squeezed her breast and she let out a groan of excitement. Celes was already desperately close to release from his expert ministrations on her nether regions. Desperately aroused. Desperate to feel his length filling her.

The hand guiding her in pleasuring herself pulled away. She whimpered at the lack of attention and started to pull back as well, but he quickly guided her own hand back to her nub. “Don’t stop…” He whispered in a strained voice, and Celes could tell he was extremely aroused by the sight. 

He gently pushed on her back, bending her over at the waist, so that her glistening lips were presented to him and he could see her delicate fingers rubbing desperately at her pearl. The sight was the most delicious invitation he had ever seen, and he rubbed the tip of his length against her opening.

Celes practically whined in frustration at his teasing. “I _need_ you, please...” She begged softly, already close to release. Craving the fullness that she could only attain from him inside her.

“Anything for you…” With a single shove, he sheathed himself inside her with a groan. “Oh fuck…” He stilled for a moment after entering and she could tell he was trying to calm himself down. 

Aching for release, Celes knew it would happen quickly. He slid in and out of her at an agonizingly slow pace, one hand stroking along her back lovingly as his other hand rubbed along the orb of her bottom. 

“Mmmm, you’ve got…a great ass—" He was practically purring his words as he continued his lazy rhythm.

His words caused her to blush heavily, but when Sabin was raunchy, it did something to her she couldn’t ever begin to describe. Pulling her hand away, she slammed it against the wall with a scream, her whole body shuddering as she clenched around his member with orgasmic energy.

“Gods, Sabin…” She moaned. 

He shifted both of his hands to grasp her hips and bottom. Squeezing both of her cheeks and gripping them tightly, he opened her up a little more, then began to thrust into her earnestly. Every nerve of her body was on fire and she held onto the wall of the shower for support, clawing at the marble as he pounded into her. 

“You feel so good...” He groaned, unrelenting in a deliciously rough rhythm. She was acutely aware that he wanted to hear her scream as he shifted his hips slightly, driving in even deeper. “Again…” He commanded from behind her, repeating her earlier demands from their duel.

“I—I—” She protested weakly. She was barely recovering from her previous climax and he was working her up again—it was nearly more than she could handle. The sensitivity was nearly overwhelming, and she wasn’t sure how she was even standing—her legs felt like jelly.

“Again!” He ordered, pushing her up flush against the wall of the shower, driving into her at a near frenzy. 

She obeyed, and climaxed in a long breathy moan, her entire body going slack. No longer to hold any of her own weight on her shaking legs, she felt his strong arms hold her steady against the wall as he continued to thrust into her. Finally, he groaned loudly, filling her deeply with a few last pumps.

He kept her pressed against the cool wall of the shower so she wouldn’t collapse, still buried deep within her. Pushing her hair to the side, she felt his lips on her shoulder and neck. “Mahshari…” He panted out. “Ghorbunet...”

Celes’ entire body shivered at his words. She loved the sound of his language, especially in moments like these—and the passionate way he said the words, the fire behind them—it was almost as if he forgot to speak any other way, so caught up in pleasure. Celes turned to catch his mouth in a kiss over her shoulder. “You are—”

“Devastatingly handsome? An incredible lover?” Sabin had clearly been spending too much time with Edgar.

“—a brute...” She teased, though it was clear she enjoyed every second of it.

He chuckled and slowly unsheathed himself with a sigh, before turning her around in his arms and kissing her deeply. “You _love_ it. And…I love you. _So_ much.” He whispered, still holding her steady as her shaking subsided.

She didn’t return the words. Even though they had been together for over six months now, she had never said it to him. Not even once accidently uttered in the throes of passion. She was confident he knew though. 

* * *

Sabin left Celes to do whatever it was that she did after their lovemaking, hearing her rustle around behind him as he sat in the large bathtub. He closed his eyes and used the time to bask in the afterglow. He was amazingly content and his body fully relaxed as he sank into the steaming water of the bath.

They knew each other’s bodies as well as they knew their own at this point. It was about much more than just physical pleasure—being with her was...indescribable. Her touch made him feel alive in a way he had never felt before. Being inside her was like coming home. Sometimes it was _too_ much. He hoped it was the same for her. He thought it was, anyway. She seemed happy. Pleased.

Truth be told, he felt extremely guilty about the marriage. _He_ was completely thrilled with it, personally, but, her hand had essentially been forced. After he slept with her, Edgar used Sabin’s honor and Celes’ pride to push her into the union. He was happy to take anything she was willing to give him and had zero hesitation…but Celes was younger than him, and a deeply wounded individual. Even if no one else saw beneath the layers of built up armor and ice, he _saw_ her. He knew just how deep those injuries went. And now he just compounded that injury by telling her even more of her tragic history. 

He supposed he could have just taken her on as a lover. Edgar and he were free to take on and discard as many partners as they wanted, and no one would care—but it would afford her no actual power—just access to his bedroom. There was no way the council would be accepting of the level of political power Edgar bestowed upon Celes. But at least there wouldn’t be any pressure on her.

Edgar had plenty of lovers as far as he knew. The best they could ever hope to become was a concubine to him. No way a former lover would be approved as a queen. He wondered if the girls that shared his brother’s bed were aware of that. Likely not.

He could have made Celes _his_ concubine—to at least gain her some hierarchy. But then what? He’d eventually get pressured into marrying and creating an heir. She’d have to sit by while he impregnated some other woman. He would _hate_ himself if he did that to her. 

So instead, she was forced into the marriage. Yet another thing she didn’t really have a choice in. She had been cornered, and her pride pushed her into action. All because he couldn’t control his desire for her. All because he was selfish. All because he _wanted_ her too much. 

And Edgar _knew_ it, and knew how to play the cards right to give Sabin his heart’s desire. Edgar was connivingly shrewd. And manipulative when he wanted to be. The king had managed to give his twin everything he wanted, unthinking of what it meant for Celes.

She said she was fine with it. She seemed happy with him, and genuinely enjoyed working with Edgar on rebuilding the Kingdom. And she was perfectly suited for the task. Far better at politics than he was. She _definitely_ enjoyed what they did behind closed doors. If Edgar would just marry and produce an heir, it would be so much simpler. The burden of royal duty was going to become a problem soon. 

The thought of _her_ , swollen with _his_ child, tugged at his heart and he couldn’t help but smile a little. A small flicker of pride.

The pride was short-lived. Sabin mentally berated himself…he was a selfish bastard. An absolute selfish bastard. His guilt came back tenfold.

The monk sighed deeply, coming to a decision. He would let her leave whenever she wanted. Celes deserved her freedom. If she wanted to leave, the pressure of the castle too much, he would let her go, even though it would rip his heart in half. He would give her anything she ever asked for. Even if it broke him.

His reverie was interrupted by the sound of Celes entering the water. Sabin opened his eyes and looked to his side, admiring her shapely long legs, and perfect rounded rear. The primal part of him would admit that her bottom was his favorite part of her body.

She slowly sank into the water, hissing slightly. He opened up his arms and spread his legs slightly, so she could settle into the space between them, leaning her back against his strong solid chest.

Instinctively, Sabin moved his hands to her shoulders, expertly massaging them. He gave incredible massages—learned from his years of training in martial arts. Understanding the intricacies of the body in a way very few could fathom. She groaned in appreciation as he worked out a particular kink in her neck.

“Why are you so tense?” He asked softly as he continued to manipulate her flesh.

She didn’t respond, instead leaning forward slightly so he could continue his work. He pushed her hair to the side, so he could dig harder into the tight muscle to the point where it was that fine line between relief and pain. 

“Celes…” Sabin had no intention of letting the question go. Something was bothering her, and she was going to have to tell him.

Celes let out a deep satisfied hiss as the muscle finally eased under his fingers. “Setzer is coming to the castle next week. Your brother and I are meeting to plan a strategy. Who knows what he’ll demand.”

“Ahh...I see.” He pulled her body back against his chest again, resting one hand on her waist rested while the other idly played with her hair, twirling it around his fingers. Something he did often. “…but why should you be so tense?”

Celes snorted.

Sabin placed a small kiss against her cheek. “I won’t let Roni gamble you away, don’t worry.”

She smiled and let out a small laugh at his words. He knew he could always put her at ease.

They sat in the tub for another long moment, basking in each other’s energy. As Sabin caressed her skin, he started to sense something. Something not quite right. Something was…wrong. With her. 

The monk stiffened and inhaled sharply, his hand instinctively pulling Celes closer to him and gripping her tightly. He started breathing very evenly, trying to enter a state of meditation to get a read on her.

“Sabin?” She asked with concern.

“Shhh…stay still.” He commanded. “Try and center yourself. Deep breaths.”

Sabin hovered his hands over her body, easily able to sense her as she began to meditate in the way he had showed her a few times. Something was off—it wasn’t bad, per se, but her energy was not how it normally felt.

“Your chi is off.” He finally said. “Shifted somehow. I can’t place it.”

Celes opened her eyes and turned to look at him. “What does that mean? I don’t feel any different.”

“I’m not sure. Nothing seems wrong, though. So that’s good. I’ll figure it out, don’t worry.”

She let out a sigh and turned away from him, staring at the steaming water of the bath. “I’ve been having nightmares.” A soft confession.

“I know.”

She arched an eyebrow. “You do?”

He had known for nearly three years. Had woken to her strangled moans and pained expressions. The first time it happened wasn’t long after she found him in the World of Ruin. When they shared a tent in the Serpent Trench. The moans she let out in her sleep were ones of such pain it nearly made him weep. He would gently rouse her, and when she began to awaken, he would quickly roll onto his side and pretend to be asleep. Knowing she would likely be embarrassed. He would listen to her steady her breathing, and then eventually, when she lay back down, she would snuggle in closer to his body.

Months of sleeping beside her made him accustomed to it. And even after they gathered everyone, he still would sleep as close as he could to her, so he could try and extract her from whatever nocturnal demons were torturing her.

Sabin threaded his fingers through her hair, enjoying the feeling of its silkiness. It also served as a convenient way to help Celes relax. “I got used to it on the road, you’d have lots of ‘em. Sometimes you’d scream. Scared the crap out of Roni the first time you did it after we found him. Why do you think I wake you up in the middle of the night so much?”

Celes remained quiet, deep in thought. Sabin had learned long ago to let her stay in her thoughts in moments like these. He knew she appreciated that he gave her time for quiet reflection. In a lot of ways, he knew her better than she knew herself. Sabin would joke that he was just the muscle and Edgar was the brains of the operation—but that was never true. Sabin may not have been a strategist, but he was extremely observant and knew how to interact with almost everyone effortlessly.

As she sat silently, letting his fingers continue their work on her hair, it almost sent her into a meditative state. Sabin concentrated on her, trying to read her, and silently wondered what unwelcome visitors haunted her dreams. Unwelcome memories…her admitting their existence to him was a big step, but he knew he had to tread lightly if he had any chance of her telling him details. She would share in her own time. He knew not to push—only did so when she needed it—to bring her back from the darkness.

“I’m sorry.” She finally said.

Sabin shook his head and pulled her closer to his body, nuzzling her neck. “Stop that nonsense.” He knew this was his chance, and hesitantly added. “What happens in the dreams?”

Celes hesitated. Drew in a shaky breath and held it. When she finally sighed, her voice was barely a whisper.

“It ends again, and…everything is my fault...” 

* * *

“Arrête ça…”

Sabin was awoken by his bedmate’s strangled moans. They were not moans of pleasure, and her thrashing body concerned him. Celes was whimpering in her sleep and fighting a nocturnal demon.

Again.

“Sors de ma tête! _Sortez_! Je deviens fou!” She was practically screaming now, and he wouldn’t be surprised if the guards could hear her. He was glad they couldn’t understand what she was saying, or else there could be some very terrible consequences. 

Sabin would give anything to be able to fight whatever phantom was in her mind. Rip its head off for her. It’s what he was good at. But instead he was helpless. And he hated it.

“...tu es censé être mort…”

Sighing, he reached out and placed his hand on her arm. Her skin was even more icy than normal. “Celes.” He shook her gently, not wanting to startle her out of sleep.

“C’est douloureux… arrête ça…si vous plais…c’est douloureux…”

She didn’t respond, and he jostled her harder “Joon-am, wake up.” The pained look on her face broke his heart. She normally woke up by this time. Grabbing her other arm, he lifted her off the bed and shook her as roughly as he thought was safe. “Celes, _please.”_

Her blue eyes finally snapped open, revealing wild panic as they darted back and forth. It took her a moment to realize where she was before she calmed down.

“Sabin…” She breathed out, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face in his chest. “…I’m so sorry.” 

Sabin wrapped his arms around her, one hand trailing down her blonde hair, pushing it from her tear stained face. “Hey, now…it’s okay.”

Her breathing quickly calmed and her vise-like grip around his torso loosened. She quickly tensed again when there was a rapid knocking on the door.

“ _Ala Hazrat!!”_ A guard. Obviously, her screaming was terrifying enough to alert them that something terrible was happening.

“We are fine! The princess had a bad dream. That’s all.” Sabin made sure his tone was commanding and stern. He did _not_ want them entering their bedchamber.

“ _Yes, Sire!”_

They were extremely fortunate that Edgar was likely the only other person in the castle who could understand what she was saying. It was only recently that she started to talk in her sleep to this much detail, and it was very unnerving. Sabin couldn’t bring himself to tell her what she said.

He started to feel soft kisses on his chest, and her hands and mouth were quickly moving along his torso. It almost always happened like this, when he woke her from a nightmare. When she calmed down, she was always desperate for connection with him. It made him wonder just how bad those dreams of hers were. 

But, deep down, Sabin knew that whatever was happening, was much more than just dreams.

* * *

The Fanatics Tower had been his only option when choosing his domicile. It came as a pleasant surprise to discover what was beneath it. What ruins it had been constructed on. In reality, it explained why it attracted magic. The remaining zealots were eager to bow down and worship him as their new leader with Kefka out of the way. The tower was starting to populate with others. The army growing in size. It was nowhere near large enough to take on Figaro especially as they were allied with Doma, but that didn’t matter. All he needed was his secret weapon and they would all turn on each other. Beg for him to lead. It was child’s play. All he had to do was bide his time.

He would retrieve his Empress-to-be soon. She would bend to his will. And if she refused to cooperate, the slave crown worked well on her in the past. But, he was confident that eventually she would be _his_ more than willingly. She had been promised to him. Then he would rule by fear.

Fear was the most powerful weapon there was. His weapon would create all the fear he needed to make the world his. So that he could finally reclaim his destiny.


	6. Chapter 6

**Desert Nights**

**Chapter 6**

* * *

The desert sun was slowly rising, heat building for the day, as Sabin meditated on their small balcony. He sat crossed legged, eyes closed, as he searched for _her_ , his pipe sitting on the ground next to him, still burning. It had become a daily activity ever since he noticed the strange signal in her chi. Her energy had normalized since then, but he found he needed to check on it every morning just to be sure. The easiest time for him to do it was when she was sleeping. 

Today there was a strange flicker in her signal. It was—off. Not chaotic, but certainly not balanced.

A knock on the door disrupted his concentration and he grumbled, standing up to go see who was interrupting him. Thankfully, the knock hadn’t awakened Celes and he padded softly to the door, opening it a bit.

“Ala hazrat…” Their petit maid and Pierre were on the other side. She was about to say something more, but a crimson blush spread across her cheeks and she darted her eyes to the ground. Pierre looked just as uncomfortable, if not more so.

Sabin groaned, realizing he was standing there in nothing but a pair of extremely tight boxer briefs that left little to the imagination. And on top of that, Celes had left a few souvenirs on his chest and neck the night before. He really had to stop opening the door without a shirt on.

“Please don’t call me that.” He continuously requested a less formal greeting, though they never listened.

“Ummm, Shahzadeh.” The maid kept her eyes carefully averted as she hesitantly held out a pile of folded clothes. “I need to get the princess dressed. The King wants her in formal attire.”

Sabin cast a glance back in the bedroom and noticed Celes stirring slightly. Turning back to the maid he nodded. “Um…can you come back in thirty minutes?”

The maid was now red as a tomato and Sabin facepalmed, realizing she probably thought she had interrupted them mid-coitus. “Uh…yes, I’m so sorry, hi...Ala Ha...Shahzadeh.” 

Sabin didn’t think he had ever seen someone run from an area so quickly as the maid scurried to the staircase. He turned towards Pierre, striking up a more casual pose. Certainly, a male wouldn’t be as bashful around his almost-nudity. Pierre’s wide-eyed gaze was fixed at Sabin’s waist.

“Uh---” The squire started and unconsciously licked his lips. “I…forgot. Forgive me, Sire.” Bowing repetitively, Pierre backed away as quickly as he could, nearly stumbling over his own feet in the process.

Sabin really did not understand why the guy was always so flustered around him. He was always nice to the young man—yet he always seemed intimidated or uncomfortable in his presence.

Shrugging, he shut the door and turned back to the bed, where he was met with a sleepy smile. 

“Sabin?” She obviously could read the slight strain on his face. “Who was it?”

“Edgar wants you all prim and proper.” He gestured at his body. “Today is the day Setzer gets here, isn’t it?”

Celes groaned and flopped back onto the bed, pulling the covers over her head.

He crawled over her and peeled the covers back so he could see just her eyes. The way she was gazing at him, he could tell she was smiling under the blanket. “I bought you enough time to clean up before the maid comes back to dress you.” He pulled the sheet further down, planting a soft kiss on her lips. “Or enough time for a quickie…”

Celes playfully bonked his head with a pillow before shimmying from under him and jumping out of bed to evade his grasp. “How about both?”

Grinning, he followed her to the bathroom.

* * *

It didn’t take him long to get ready. He wore a more formal attire per Edgar’s request, though he skipped out on the jacket. The maid was back in exactly thirty minutes and hustled in, still bright red, her eyes darting between the handsome prince and his wife. Sabin was sitting lazily in a chair in the corner of the room, one leg crossed over the other, tapping his pipe to his lips as he watched the maid fuss over Celes’ hair and dress. He looked nearly identical to his twin in that moment, except for the scruff on his face and his trademark necklace.

Celes was distracted by the maid and it gave him another chance to try and read her chi and identify the source of the divergence. He was watching what looked like torture, as the maid continued to tighten a corset around Celes’ waist, tugging from the back as Celes sucked in, barely able to breathe. 

Sabin frowned as he watched her, frustrated that he couldn’t identify the problem with her aura, let alone fix it. She caught his frown in the mirror and cast him an inquisitive look.

“Did you dream last night?” He asked, meeting her blue eyes in the mirror.

Something flashed across her face, like a fleeting memory pushing its way into the forefront of her brain. As soon as it was there, it was gone.

“More of the same.” She wheezed out as the maid pulled especially hard on the strings of the corset to finish tying it.

As uncomfortable as the process looked, Sabin had to admit the end result was quite enticing. Her cleavage was on full display and pushed up in a way that made him want to bury his face in it. He found himself momentarily distracted.

“Do you know what happened to Gestahl’s son?” Celes suddenly asked him.

Hearing the name of the former Emperor caused the young maid to let out a slight gasp, but she continued helping Celes into her dress and fastening the buttons in the back.

Sabin stood from his chair and walked over to her, suddenly wanting to be closer. “He had a son?”

“Yes. A few years older than you.” Celes smoothed down the dress over her waist. It was extremely feminine, not unlike what she wore when she sang in the opera. It was also very low cut, which Sabin knew was not an accident, given the company that was coming.

The maid bowed and quickly scurried out of the room, leaving the pair alone.

Sabin reached out and gently pulled her closer, staring down at her, appreciating the work the maid had put in. She was stunning. She always was. “You look beautiful.”

Celes shrugged, she never was the type to blush at a compliment. “Like the dress, hm?”

He chuckled and wrapped his arm around her waist, his other hand coming up to gently adjust the braid cascading over her shoulder, his mouth moving close to hers. “I’d like it better on the floor…” He whispered against her lips. “Or maybe pushed up around your waist.”

“You spend too much time with your brother,” she murmured, cheeks blushing furiously. But, she didn’t pull away from him, and instead pressed herself fully against his body, grazing her lips along his strong jaw, and fingering his necklace gently. “You don’t look so bad yourself… _Shahzadeh._ ”

A low growl erupted from the back of his throat. Normally, he hated being called prince, but when she said it—in his own language—it turned him on like crazy. It summoned the animal inside of him…and she knew it. It was a challenge to remind her that even in the castle, he was _still_ the monk Sabin of Mount Kolts. A wild, powerful, passionate beast of a man. Tugging gently at her braid to tilt her head, his lips attached to her now exposed throat, hands reaching down to start pulling at her skirts, trying to bunch up the heavy material and get to his prize.

She had already snaked a hand underneath his shirt and was running it along his toned abdomen, her other hand ghosting the top of his trousers, searching for his belt. This was much easier when they were both wearing clothes they were more comfortable in.

A clearing throat interrupted them, and they turned to find Edgar standing in the doorway, a bemused expression on his face. “You ready to work your magic, Celes?”

Sabin let out a frustrated groan. 

Celes hid her embarrassment in the crook of Sabin’s neck, quickly smoothing down her dress. “Let’s get this over with.”

* * *

Setzer Gabbiani strolled into the reception area of the throne room in a dazzling flourish with all the drama that one would expect from him. A few of the courtesans fanned themselves upon his spectacular arrival. He always had women fawning at him to some level—which made it even stranger that he had at one time planned on kidnapping a wife. It’s not that he lacked choices—its that it was a _game._

Celes stiffened as she saw him, especially as she noticed his eyes trailing up and down her body in an anything-but-innocent way. She felt a reassuring hand on the small of her back and was grateful that Sabin was with her.

Edgar was wise in his approach. He had settled for all formality, dressed in his royal robes, and even wearing a crown as he sat on the throne. Sabin stood next to him, though refused his own crown. Celes realized very quickly why Edgar had wanted her dressed the way she was. 

From the cinched waist to the almost indecent neckline, she completely invoked the spirit of Maria, and practically oozed sensuality. A ruby necklace settled into her cleavage, pushed nearly up to her chin from the corset. Her makeup was stunning and demanded attention: dark red lips, shimmering eyelids, and hair cascading in a braid over her shoulder. She felt a little irritated at Edgar for basically prostituting her out, but she had to admit it was a brilliant strategy. She was Setzer’s absolute weakness. They all knew it. If anyone was going to be able to pry the Falcon out of his hands—it was her.

Sabin’s hand was gently rubbing her back. He gave her bottom a playful swat and cast her a quick smirk before putting his hands behind his back to stand at attention. Setzer bowed slightly in front of Edgar. 

“Edgar, King of Figaro once more, I see.” Setzer said, exaggeratedly twirling his hand in the air. He nodded to Sabin in recognition. “Good to see you.”

“I always was the King.” Edgar said with a warm laugh.

“Of course.” Setzer then walked towards Celes with his hand outstretched. “And _you_ …palace life suits you.”

Celes offered her hand to him with a tight smile. “Good to see you, Setzer. You look well.”

He kissed the top of her hand but did not let go, instead tugging her sharply to feast his eyes upon her. He leered, as if he were inspecting merchandise. Celes tried not to roll her eyes.

Turning her hand in his, Setzer spun her around a few times to see her at all angles. “Yes, palace life suits you _indeed_ , Celes Chere.” He grinned, with mischief in his eyes, keeping his gaze trained on her before finally dropping her hand.

Edgar cleared his throat. “Her surname is Figaro now.” He said, correcting Setzer.

Setzer looked up at Edgar, gears obviously turning in his head, for his brows arched as he replied. “Figaro, hm?” He cast his gaze back to the brothers, looking back and forth between them. “Which one of you bastards was lucky enough to bed her?”

Celes clenched her fist but remained calm. She knew the wording was no accident. Sensing anger radiating off Sabin, she shot him a warning glance. He calmed but did not respond.

The exchange was not lost on Setzer. “Muscles, hm? Sabin, you lucky sonofabitch. Damn. Maria got her prince. You could do a lot worse, I suppose.” His voice was genuine. Deep down, Setzer wasn’t as much of a cad as he seemed—he just viewed everything as a game, and everyone as prizes to be won or lost. Celes would have been his ultimate coup—but never at the expense of her happiness. 

Setzer reached forward and tugged Celes towards him. Before she could register what he was planning on doing, he pressed his lips to her own in a kiss that was longer than necessary. Letting her go, he winked at her. “Gotta kiss the bride—congratulations. Though, you know—you could do better too.”

Celes could practically smell the fury coming off of Sabin and was glad he had spent extra time meditating that morning. If not, he probably would have punched Setzer in the face by now. 

This was _exactly_ the reason she dreaded this meeting. 

She went into autopilot, casting him a pretty smile and playing the role of a demure blushing ingenue. “Enough teasing, Setzer, please.” Setzer wouldn’t care if she _was_ acting—it was exactly what he liked best.

The gambler held up his hands in mock defense. “Alright, alright. What can I do for Figaro?”

“We need the Falcon,” Edgar stated directly, never rising from his throne.

“Figured as much. No can do, King…I’ve got plans for her.”

“Not forever,” Edgar continued. “We want to study it to make our own. Figaro is the only country with the technology to be able to build it. You must know that. By our estimations we would need to study it for only three or four weeks.”

“I’m listening…what do I get out of it?” Setzer asked, his eyes turning to Celes and once again trailing up and down her form.

“I can’t gamble away my hand in marriage again, Setzer,” Celes held up her left hand. “I’m already taken.”

Setzer frowned and clasped his hands behind his back, starting to pace the room. “I am turning the Falcon into a floating Opera House. I want to fly from town to town and put on Operas on the deck. The interior will be a casino. Naturally, I need a muse to help me…”

Celes raised an eyebrow, she could see where this was going.

Setzer turned to Edgar. “As long as you have the airship, Celes has to sing for me every day.”

Celes tried not to audibly grumble. Leave it to the men in the room to gamble with her as a chess piece rather than asking if she would be willing to do it in the first place. Edgar technically had authority to make that decision for her since she was now part of Figaro—but there was no way he would without her consent. 

He had better not. 

It was silent for a moment, each of them waiting to see who would speak first.

Sabin was about to open his mouth but was interrupted by Celes. “I accept.”

A grin spread across Setzer’s face. “Dressed up like you’re in an opera too…no armor.”

“Very well.”

Setzer clapped his hands together. “Ah, my Maria will give me all the inspiration I need!”

“I have another deal for you, Setzer,” Celes began as she saw a perfect opportunity. She noticed Sabin and Edgar look at her with slight alarm as she went off script, and she quickly waved them off with her hand. 

“I’ll bite, what is it?” Setzer grabbed Celes’ hand again.

“I want the Falcon at my personal disposal until Figaro has completed its own airship. You can pilot her if you like and can even start changes to the ship as long as it still flies.”

Setzer grinned like a cat that got a canary. “And what do _I_ get, Celes Chere?”

“I will sing an opera on your floating ship for whatever town you want. Whatever opera you choose. Once a year. Indefinitely.”

Edgar raised an eyebrow and a small grin spread to his face at Celes’ idea.

“Two shows.” Setzer countered. “And one has to be Maria.”

“Deal.”

* * *

“ _Moi je t’offrirai, des perles de pluie. Venues de pays ou il ne pleut pas. Je creuserai la terra, jusqu’apres ma mort…”_

Celes’ beautiful singing voice echoed across the courtyard of Figaro castle. True to her deal with Setzer, she sang for him every day. Sometimes she would take his requests, but on her best days, she would sing strange songs Cid must have taught her in Vector, in her own unique tongue. 

“ _Ne me quitte pas.”_

She always commanded a sizable crowd every time she sang, but especially on these days. A siren hypnotizing an audience. Sabin never really understood opera, that much was obvious the one and only time he witnessed a performance—and the most exciting part of that experience was the battle with Ultros. Why people would sing a plot made zero sense, but he did know that the sound of Celes singing was one of the most gorgeous sounds in the world, so he always took time to listen to her.

Anyone with eyes could see that the Prince was madly in love with his bride. The new princess was harder to read—she rarely smiled, and it seemed like her heart was made of ice. She was never rude and seemed to care about the well-being of Figaro—she was just…mechanical. 

Rumors of any lack of connection between the two were quickly quashed by the two maids and Pierre who overheard firsthand just how affectionate the couple was from their sole access to their tower. 

The maids came to listen to Celes sing as well, though instead of watching her, they usually were staring at their prince and the way he gazed at her. Utterly captivated.

Today was one of the lucky days when he had clearly come from his training and was wearing only a pair of loose pants. The sun was shining brightly, adding to the bronzed perfection of his bare chest and broad shoulders. It was unfair how gorgeous he was and yet he only had eyes for his wife. If he noticed them watching him, he certainly paid it no heed. Quite the opposite of the King, who would spare them a flirtatious wink here and there.

One of the maids sighed and fanned herself dramatically. “I wish a man would look at me the way the Shahzadeh looks at the princess.”

Pierre, the squire, nodded in agreement. “Me too…” He sighed wistfully, staring intensely at Sabin.

The first maid grumbled slightly. “I want to hate her for having the Shahzadeh, being that she used to be part of the Empire…but I just can’t. She’s quite nice. They actually are well-matched, I suppose.”

Pierre nodded and a blush spread across his features as he thought of just _how_ well-matched they were. “They are…quite affectionate behind closed doors—and loud”

The maid giggled, nodding in agreement. Then, she dropped her voice to a whisper. “I could _barely_ get her into that dress this morning.”

Pierre raised an eyebrow, darting his eyes between the two lovers. He noticed Celes catch Sabin’s gaze and a pretty blush spread across her face. “ _Ne me quitte pas…”_

“ _Ne me quitte pas.”_

“I wonder what she’s singing?”

“ _’Do not leave me now’,’_ ” The King’s voice interrupted them. “It is a hymn of the cowardice of men. Begging his love for forgiveness that she can’t give.”

All three of the onlookers were startled by the King’s presence, unknowing of how long he had been listening to them. They all bowed deeply “Ala Hazrat!”

As they looked up from their bow, they were surprised that Edgar stayed standing next to them, a small smile on his face.

“ _Ne me quitte pas.”_

“My mother used to sing this song…” He murmured wistfully, at no one in particular.

Pierre squinted slightly. “Does she look…a little pale? Majesty?”

Sabin had obviously noticed as well, and was bounding through the crowd to get closer to Celes, who was finishing her song. 

An alarmed look crossed Edgar’s face, and the maids followed his gaze to watch Celes collapse, caught just in time by their prince.

The maids and Pierre rushed to her side. By the time they got there, her eyes were fluttering open. It appeared she had just briefly fainted. She was cradled safely in the arms of the Prince who was frowning down at her, concern etched across his face.

“The corset may be too tight with this heat…” One of the maids said softly, feeling immense guilt for having tied it that morning.

Sabin nodded, but did not look at her. “Thank you.”

The maid blushed and felt herself swoon as the Prince tenderly pushed a stray hair back from Celes’ face. “Are you alright?”

The Princess looked pale, but color was slowly returning to her face. “I’m fine Sabin, I can stand.”

“Like hell you are.” The Prince lifted her up easily in his arms bridal-style and headed towards the tower where their royal chambers lay. “You think I’m gonna pass up an opportunity to carry you like this?”

The maids and Pierre all sighed wistfully as they watched the Prince—and his muscular back—retreat into the tower.

* * *

Sabin carried Celes all the way to their chambers, despite her half-hearted protests.

“Honestly, I just got too warm, Sabin. We _are_ in the middle of a desert.”

Sabin ignored her, gently setting her down in the chair that facing her vanity. He disappeared briefly in the bathroom and returned with a bowl and glass of cool water, setting them before her.

“Here…splash your face and drink.”

His strong hands began to unbutton the back of her dress as she oblingingly splashed some water on her face. He was quickly able to undo the garment, sliding if off her arms and pulling her to stand so she could step out of it.

“Seriously, I can stand by myself.” She protested.

Sabin snorted. “Stop fighting me on this, woman.”

Celes crossed her arms. “Fine.” Sabin began undoing the ties on the corset, tugging the binding so that it would loosen. He could tell she was starting to feel better from the deep sigh she gave. “Sabin?”

He paused and placed a kiss on the back of her neck. Her hair was in a ponytail, which he enjoyed very much, because it was one of the places he enjoyed kissing the most.

“Just…untie it, you don’t have to take it off.” She motioned to the corset.

He tugged on the ties until he was able to completely undo the knots, and slowly relax the bindings.

“That’s good enough.” 

Tying it back into place, he kissed the back of her neck again gently. Her skin was cold again. He turned her around to face him and stared down at her face, searching her eyes. The color was back to her cheeks and she appeared no worse for wear. 

He was flooded with relief, and his gaze traveled down to her chest, still pushed up from the corset, though now loosened enough to where she actually looked comfortable. He tugged her closer to him. “Any reason you’re keeping this on?”

“I think you know why, _Shahzadeh_.” She replied innocently, her hands tracing up his washboard stomach and across his chest.

Growling, he lifted her up easily, tugging her legs around his waist as he buried his face into her cleavage. “You aren’t playing fair, Celes.”

She laughed and turned his face up so she could kiss him as he carried her effortlessly to their bed. “Don’t you know all is fair in love and war?”

* * *

Sabin let out a deep content sigh, burying his face in the blonde tresses in front of him, placing a small kiss there. Celes had been particularly frisky and it had left him in an extremely good mood.

“Joon-am?” He asked, assuming she was still somewhat awake.

She rolled slightly on her back to look at him, her face displaying the same joy he was feeling. “Got what you want from me and now you’re going to leave, hm? Just like a man.” It was said in a teasing tone. Celes was used to him leaving at night to talk to Edgar. 

“You’re the best.” Leaning down, he gave her one last searing kiss before slipping out of bed and tugging on the first thing he could find to wear—a pair of very tight training shorts. Shorts that showed just how blessed Sabin was _downstairs_.

Celes propped herself up on her elbow, licking her lips as she watched him dress. “You’re going in _just_ that?”

Sabin shrugged, and flexed a little for her. “It’s the middle of the night. I’ll pass some guards…whatever.”

She reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezing it, before placing a kiss underneath his belly button, in the trail of dark blonde hair that led to the shorts. A few more kisses followed, moving lower. “Wake me up when you get back…” She murmured with one last kiss right above the band of his shorts. Then she whispered something against his skin softly. So quietly, he barely heard it. But he did.

“ _Man to ra doost daram_.”

Sabin sucked in a sharp breath. She said it. _Finally._ And in his own language. Somehow it made it even more sweet. Dropping to his knees next to the bed, he pulled her towards him. She wouldn’t meet his gaze and he could swear she seemed shy.

Why she would be shy about this, he had no idea, especially considering the filthy mischief they had been engaged in just moments before. He truly did not understand her at all sometimes.

“Kheili mamnun.” His voice was just as soft as hers. He kissed the crown of her head and stood, not wanting to embarrass her further. 

* * *

Sabin made his way through the familiar halls of the castle. This had become a bi-weekly occurrence—these visits with his brother. It was the only time they truly had privacy, and it turned out to be a nice way to catch each other up on the decade they were apart. Not able to wipe the goofy grin from his face, he felt like a love-struck teenager. Whistling an old Figaro tune, he rounded the corner of the stairs to find Pierre. 

Cheerily, Sabin slung an arm around the squire casually. “Pierre, you know the drill—” Sabin had long ago instructed Pierre to alert him and _only_ him if he heard anything from their room when he was gone. He trusted the squire, and so did Celes. There was no doubt that Pierre’s loyalty lay with them first.

“Gods, its really happening…” The squire murmured under his breath, and dared to look over at Sabin, a strange look on his features. 

“You okay, Pierre? Are you sick? You’re really, really red.” Sabin stepped back and held onto Pierre by the shoulders, staring at him intently.

“I…gods, so close…I’m fine. Sire.” Pierre practically ripped himself from Sabin’s grip and saluted quickly. “Thank you. I will listen for the…princess.” 

“Um…okay.” Sabin shrugged and headed down the hall, whistling the jaunty tune once again.

Once his back was turned, Pierre slumped against the wall as he tried to calm his breathing.

Sabin really didn’t understand that guy sometimes.

He rapped lightly on Edgar’s door. 

Edgar appeared, adjusting a robe around his waist. He held a finger to his lips and motioned with a nod of his head to his private balcony. Perfect. Sabin was hoping to be outside anyway, and had brought along his pipe. He crept through his brother’s chambers and noticed a figure sound asleep in the bed. Edgar shot him a cocky grin and opened the door to his large outdoor area, the two of them stepping out into the cool desert night air.

Sabin sank into one of Edgar’s comfortable chairs and adjusted a blanket over his waist. Bringing his pipe to his mouth, he lit it quickly with the matches Edgar always kept on hand. Edgar didn’t care much for the pipe, but would smoke on occasional cigar. 

Edgar softly closed the door behind him. “Celes is alright, I take it?”

“Mmmm. Heat got to her.” Sabin couldn’t help but smile a little, thinking of what transpired after he brought her back to their chambers.

Edgar smirked in response, knowing the look on his brother’s face. “Heat? To Celes? A General in the Imperial Army?”

Sabin shrugged. “That’s what she said. It was just a fainting spell.”

A look of shock crossed Edgar’s face and then he became quite thoughtful. It seemed like he was about to say something, but thought better of it, instead clapping his hand against Sabin’s back and chuckling, a wide grin on his face.

Sabin felt a little annoyed—like Edgar understood something that he didn’t.

The grin never left Edgar’s face. “Anyway, what’s on your mind, little brother?”

The monk took a deep inhale and chewed on his pipe thoughtfully. “Cyan mentioned something…”

“Go on.”

Blowing a ring of smoke into the night air, Sabin sighed. “Someone witnessed a person using magic in Nikeah.”

Edgar’s eyes widened. “Are you sure? Is it possible it was a mage descendant? One of Strago’s people?”

“In Nikeah?” Sabin offered the pipe to Edgar, who declined. “Seems unlikely.”

The king stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Well—we are essentially done with our plans for the airship. So, you head for Doma in a few days, right? You can investigate it further. Maybe you should go to Thamasa first. Strago may be of assistance.”

Another inhale of his calming tobacco. “Do you think it’s possible—”

“No.” Edgar’s response came quickly, sternly. “There is no way. If there are any Espers we haven’t found, Locke will find them before anyone else. That’s what he’s been doing since Kefka. And magicite infusion ended with the world. Vector is gone.”

“Locke, huh? So, you’ve been in contact with him?”

Edgar nodded. “Every few weeks or so. He’s been trotting all over, looking for treasure. Mostly Espers.”

“Does he know about—” Sabin gestured with his pipe vaguely.

“I highly doubt it. Unless you or Celes told him. I think he would have come here and tried to beat the living daylights out of you if he knew. My guess is that he still believes there is a chance with her. I think…I think they could have been together, had the world not ended.”

Sabin cracked his knuckles on the arm of the chair he was sitting in, letting out a deep sigh. “Well, maybe he shouldn’t have spent two years trying to revive his dead girlfriend after it ended, then.”

He knew Celes harbored feelings for Locke. Feelings that were more than just platonic. He wouldn’t even be surprised if they had been physically intimate on some level before the World ended. But that changed everything. And then Rachel happened. And by then Sabin and Celes had become so used to being around each other they were practically inseparable. Surviving an apocalypse together, thinking they might be the only two left, tends to bond people fairly intimately.

“Jealousy is beneath you, little brother. You are a prince. You got the woman you wanted. You have the upper hand here. Besides, based on seeing you two the morning after we departed the Falcon, I would guess she was a virgin before you were with her—so, it’s not like Locke plucked her first.”

Adding some more tobacco to his pipe, Sabin let out a slight growl. There was no way he was going to comment on that—though Edgar did have a point. If anyone was going to be envious, it would be Locke.

Sabin tapped his pipe against his forehead, a habit of his when thinking deeply. He wanted to quickly move the conversation away from his sex life. And Locke. “It’s possible there are still some magitek knights left. Weaker ones?”

“Perhaps. We won’t know until we look into it.” Edgar stood from his seat. “I want to talk to you about something else, but let me go get us some drinks.”

“Sounds good to me.”

Re-entering his room, Sabin could hear Edgar rustling around. A soft curse. Then the sound of the door to his suite opening. Apparently, he was going to have to go to the cellar for a new bottle.

Leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes, Sabin continued to enjoy his pipe as he reflected. Enjoying the coolness of the night air. He felt a feminine hand on his shoulder and smiled. “Joon-am…” He whispered, not really thinking that it was extremely unlikely that Celes was in his brother’s room.

The figure slid into his lap, and Sabin quickly realized that the person was mostly naked, was tiny, five feet, maybe, and most definitely not his wife.

“Highness, why don’t you come back to bed? I’m sure I can help you get back to sleep--”

Sabin’s eyes shot open and he realized there was a spunky woman on his lap, with short purple spiky hair, and an extremely large chest that was pressed against him, her lips inches from his own. She was wearing nothing but a tiny piece of material that could barely be considered underwear. He gave her a startled look that she returned. 

Monday, Monday…what was her name? It was one of the few that Edgar actually let spend the night. Monday…

The beauty practically threw herself off of him and Sabin quickly tossed her the blanket from his lap.

Curling the blanket around her, she bowed on the ground in front of him, her nose practically touching the floor, a deep blush sprinkling her cheeks. “S-Shazadeh! Holy gods, I am _mortified._ Please, please forgive me. I meant no disrespect to you or the Princess…I thought you were—”

Sabin shook his head and began to laugh. The entire incident had made him drop his pipe, and he retrieved it from the ground, setting it on the balcony railing, as he tried to control his laughter. “Its…okay,” he reassured her. 

One of Edgar’s girls trying to throw herself at the prince was a one-way ticket out of the castle—Sabin knew it was an honest mistake. Relieved, the girl on the ground began to chuckle as well.

Edgar chose that moment to reappear, with two glasses in his hand and a bottle of whiskey. He glanced at the scene and let out a whistle, easily figuring out what had happened. Reaching a hand down, he helped the woman to her feet. “I mean, I get it that we look alike…”

Sabin had sixty-five pounds of pure muscle over his brother, even if their faces were similar. 

“Can you leave us, Dora? I need to speak with my brother.” Sabin noticed that Edgar spoke to her with more gently than many of the rest of the women who frequented his room.

The woman hesitated briefly.

“I _will_ call for you next week, don’t worry.” The king winked and ushered her back to the bedroom where she quickly gathered her things.

Edgar poured two glasses of whiskey and set one in front of his twin. “I’ll get straight to the point.”

Sabin did not like Edgar’s tone. He eyed him suspiciously over the rim of his glass as he sipped his drink.

“A guard told me there was screaming coming from your chambers the other day. He was convinced someone was trying to kill both of you—and that Celes was screaming something in a language he couldn’t understand.”

A deep sigh escaped Sabin’s lips as he took another sip of his strong drink. “You know Celes has nightmares, Edgar. This isn’t news.”

“Like hell it isn’t. I remember those nightmares well. But I never remembered her sounding so bad that it would alert a guard. _What_ is happening?”

The monk shook his head. “I—I don’t know. I really don’t know. They’re getting worse, and, its getting harder to wake her up.”

“She’s started talking in her sleep?” Edgar frowned deeply as he finished off his drink, quickly pouring a little more into his glass.

A pause. “Yes.”

“And? Says what?”

“Je vous en prie, arrêtez ça…”

“Based on the look on your face, I truly don’t believe that is all. What else?” Edgar pressed.

“Sors de ma tête.”

Edgar cursed softly. “Do you think—”

Sabin cut him off, his tone a little angry. “No. Don’t even finish that question. I always bring her out of them. Just like I always have.”

“I trust you to handle this.”

Sabin growled in irritation at his brother. “ _Handle_ this? Roni, she is my _partner._ I love her. I _love_ her. I promised her that I wouldn’t let anything happen. That I wouldn’t let the magicite...” He sighed deeply, not wanting to finish that train of thought.

Edgar placed a reassuring hand on Sabin’s shoulder. “I know, Rene… I love her too. I will do everything in my power to help you. All I’ve ever wanted—everything I have done—is to ensure your happiness.”

They sat together in silence for a while, enjoying their drinks, Sabin relighting his pipe. Neither admitted their mutual deep concern to each other—but in hung thickly in the air.


	7. Chapter 7

**Desert Nights**

**Chapter 7**

* * *

Both Celes and Sabin were ready to get out of Figaro, and eager to meet with their companions. As nice as it was to _have_ a home, in Celes’ case, and to be back home, in Sabin’s case—they were both going a little stir crazy. It could become easily claustrophobic in the castle, with eyes always on them. Sabin could practically smell the council members swooping in, ready to lecture them on succession. 

Upon Edgar’s insistence, Pierre and the two maids accompanied Sabin and Celes. He had asserted for sake of appearances and security that they join them in their travels, as they were acting as official ambassadors of what was likely the strongest country that existed. They were excited to see the rest of the World again.

Mobliz was their first stop, at Celes’ request. She asked Terra to join them for a few months and she had hastily agreed. Sabin sensed that Celes _needed_ Terra for some reason. He didn’t push or ask, just complied. He always liked the half-esper and figured she would be a good companion for them both. Also, with the news of potentially new magic users, she would be able to sense them better than Celes. 

When the Falcon landed, Celes began to run. She leapt off the deck before the ship had even landed, sprinting to the entrance to Mobliz. Sabin watched, and a small smile graced his face. She had run the exact same way to Mobliz over two years ago, when they found the town after the months in the Serpent Trench. Care-free, happy, _excited._ It was the same run, the same look on her face.

He could see Terra running towards them as well, waving her hand in the air. The two women met halfway, embracing each other tightly, kissing each other’s cheeks. Sabin quickly caught up with them, jogging behind Celes, and Terra gripped him in a tight hug as well. For as anemic as Celes was in terms of affection, Terra had obviously had a different experience during their childhood. Sabin credited Terra’s time with the children in Mobliz for her transformation into the warm loving woman she had become.

“I’m so excited to see you,” Terra let out breathlessly. “I can’t _believe_ you got the Falcon.”

Celes let out a short laugh. “It didn’t come cheaply, that’s for sure.”

Terra poked Sabin lightly in the stomach. “ _You._ I can’t believe you went for it. I never thought you would have the guts to make a move.” 

Was he really that obvious in their travels? Sabin mock-pouted. “Hey!” He tried to sound offended, but it just caused both of his companions to giggle at him.

“I saw the way you looked at her the first time you two came here. You were a goner, Sabin.” 

Celes looked genuinely surprised at Terra’s comment. It was apparent by the look on her face that she didn’t realize—until just now—how much he had wanted her…and for how long.

Terra gripped Celes’ hand in hers, and looped her other arm around Sabin’s, tugging him towards the entrance to the village. “Anyway, I’m very happy for you two. All the kids are excited that a real-live prince is coming to town.”

Sabin scoffed. Technically a prince, _yes_ , but likely _not_ what they were expecting.

* * *

Celes and Terra watched Sabin play with the kids from their place at the kitchen table, sipping tea. They were spending the afternoon and evening in Mobliz before the trio would board the airship. There were currently no less than five little ones crawling all over Sabin as he lifted them effortlessly. Whatever game they had come up with had all the children laughing, and a wide grin on Sabin’s face.

“He’s really good with kids, huh?” Terra commented, putting a lump of sugar in her tea.

“Well, he’s basically a big kid himself sometimes.” Celes answered, a small smile on her face. 

“Do you want them?”

“Want what?”

Terra gestured toward the window. “Kids. Do you want them?”

A slightly strange look crossed Celes face. “I don’t think I have much of a choice in terms of having a child. Though, I do _not_ see myself as motherly. I wouldn’t…I didn’t have a childhood or a model—I don’t think I would know what to do with them. Figaro has nannies, thankfully.”

Terra pressed her lips together in a thin line. “You didn’t really answer me—but I’ll let it go. You’d be surprised how easily a mothering instinct can come out. Sabin certainly seems like a natural.”

Celes looked away from the window where Sabin and the children were playing and locked eyes with Terra. “Are you sure you want to leave for a while? Won’t the kids miss their ‘mama’?”

Terra frowned slightly. “Well…we were gone so long that Duane and Katarin sort of took over the parent role. And…let’s just say, three is a crowd here.”

Celes glanced out the window again, Duane was now tangled in the group of children, and Katarin was holding their now two-year old child. She was also pregnant once again. “They don’t want you here?”

Terra looked down at her hands. “I…honestly think they fear my power. Feel that it…it isn’t safe for the kids.”

“People fear the power of magicite. And rightfully so. _I_ fear the magicite. But, to fear you…you were never controlled by it. It’s absurd.”

The half-esper shrugged. “Not much I can do though. I left to go fight Kefka. They stayed here.”

Celes felt a pang of guilt—given it was _her_ who convinced Terra to leave. “I’m sorry to hear that, Terra.” She reached out and patted her on the hand softly. “Why didn’t you tell me in our letters?”

“I guess—if I wrote it down, then I would be admitting it was true. As long as I didn’t tell you, maybe…maybe it would change.”

“You have a home in Figaro as long as you like, I hope you know that. Edgar will be thrilled.

Terra laughed a little, rolling her eyes. “I’m sure he will be. Its okay, really. And, thank you.”

Celes paused briefly, a frown crossing her face as she thought about Terra’s loss. “Can…can I ask you something?”

“Anything. As long as I can ask you something in return.”

“That sounds fair.” Celes bit her bottom lip, trying to think of how to phrase this. “What…do you remember from the Empire? The slave crown—did it strip your memories? Or was it like…like you were in a dream?”

Terra sighed. “I’m not sure I want to know why you’re asking this, but…I do remember _parts_ of us growing up together. At least, when we were allowed to be near each other. As for the slave crown—it was like…like I was watching from afar, and my body was doing things I had no control over. I remember lots of events—dream them sometimes.”

“Dreams? You too?”

Terra nodded. “Fire in Narshe…Gestahl…watching them infuse you.”

Celes sighed deeply. “Sometimes, I don’t know what is real or imagination. I…I have done terrible things, and I don’t have the excuse of mind control, at least not for them all.”

“Gestahl would have killed you. You didn’t have much of a choice.” Terra scooted her chair closer to the former general so she could wrap an arm around her. “Then you killed Kefka. The world was saved because of _you_ , Celes. I think that more than makes up…”

“I’m not sure I believe that. Do…you remember Gestahl’s son?”

“Fritz? How could I forget? He’s a total creep, and he would ogle you like a piece of meat.”

Celes blinked. “Really? I don’t remember that. I remember him beating me. On more than one occasion.”

“Probably enjoyed it too. Do you think he survived?”

The blonde shrugged. “I don’t know. But, I have a feeling. _Many_ feelings. I…fear what may happen. Especially from the magicite.”

Terra pulled Celes closer. “Celes, they didn’t use a lot on you. Not like Kefka. And only Shiva, right? Kefka was infused with tons of different Espers.”

“Maybe. Anyway, enough talk of that.” Celes pulled away slightly and patted Terra on the knee. “Do you remember, way back when, in Narshe? I thought you were making fun of me when you asked about love. Then, you described the feelings you had when you first came here to Mobliz. Now…I think I finally understand what you meant.”

Terra clapped her hands together and a wide smile went across her face. “Oh goodie! I was hoping to get some gossip. That was actually my question for you,” Terra lowered her voice as if someone may listen in on their conversation. “What’s…it like?”

A small blush sprinkled Celes’ nose. “ _Indescribable._ ”

“Oh, come on! You have to tell me more than _that_. I kissed Leo _once_ and that’s all I’ve ever experienced.”

Celes arched an eyebrow. She knew Terra had always admired Leo, but never knew they had a fling. “It feels like there was a piece of me missing that I never knew I needed. And now I have it. I feel… _safety._ I never thought I could be…vulnerable like that. But the reward—” She trailed off, unable to explain further.

“I think I understand. Can I ask—what about Locke?”

A deep sigh escaped Celes’ lips. “I don’t think I loved him…not like _this_ , anyway. He certainly helped…open my ability to…even contemplate love. But, before I got there, he doubted me in Vector. I don’t think I really got over that. Then, the World ended. Maybe…maybe if it hadn’t? But, Sabin— _he_ was this solid, strong force keeping me grounded. And we were together for so long…I don’t think I even realized it until after we killed Kefka. I didn’t want to be away from his side ever again. If that makes sense.”

Sabin chose that moment to enter, a happy grin on his face, sweat glistening on his brow. He strode up to Celes and leaned down to press his lips gently to her own. He whispered against her mouth. “Joon-am…”

Celes looked up at him affectionately, always enjoying the feeling of his stubble against her face. She caught Terra smiling at the display from the corner of her eye. “Looks like the kids gave you a work out.”

Sabin pulled back and gave a thumbs up. “I don’t know how you do it, Terra!”

A sad look crossed Terra’s face. Sabin had no way of knowing she was basically getting kicked out. Celes saw the look and frowned.

Sabin darted his eyes between the two women. “Did—what did I do wrong? Aw, crap. Here a few hours and already gonna make someone cry.”

Celes shook her head, and slowly stood from her seat. “I’ll explain it to you later, Sabin.”

Terra stood as well. “It’s okay, you big bear. You didn’t do anything wrong.” She sighed, glancing out the window once more. “I’m ready now. Let’s…let’s go to the airship.”

* * *

Setzer had not entered Mobliz with them, and instead was using his time escorting the Falcon around to start some of the changes to the interior. His reunion with Terra was brief, but he did say something to the extent of, ‘ _Great to have our flying pink goddess back!,_ ’ as she entered the airship. 

He had generously given the captain’s quarters to Celes and Sabin, as it had the largest bed. They were both surprised, but Setzer insisted, saying that the Falcon was now the official airship for royalty, and having Celes on board was a treat. He also said he planned on using her new royal status as advertisement for his floating Opera House. The quarters were away from the rest of the living spaces below deck, giving them much-desired privacy.

Sabin had zero intention of not being intimate with his wife just because they were on the airship. The only days since he had married her that they had not been together were when she was on her cycle, and even then…or at least she would pleasure him in several other ways. He was a damn lucky man.

It was nearly nightfall when they got back to the ship, and Celes made sure Terra was set up with everything she needed before making her way to their cabin. The ship would fly through the night on autopilot to Thamasa—at a slow pace with no one actually at the helm. It was fine, they needed to sleep anyway.

Sabin found himself fidgeting on their new bed. Being with the kids that day had awakened something in him, and he realized he really, _really_ wanted a child—and _soon_. There was a pride factor as well—to prove his manhood by impregnating his wife. Antiquated, patriarchal feelings to be sure, but he had them, nonetheless.

He didn’t know how to approach the subject with Celes and honestly, didn’t think he ever _would_ know how. She should never be pressured by _him_ of all people. Maybe there was a roundabout way to do it? He did know _one_ thing though, the whole ordeal made him desire her. _Badly_. It took all his self-control not to paw her as they made their way back to the airship, and he was practically ready to pounce the second she came into the quarters.

Terra had even given him a teasing look as they entered the ship that said: _‘I know exactly what you’re thinking, you giant horn-dog.’_ Celes seemed oblivious and that made him want her even _more_ —he knew she was playing a game with him and it was driving him crazy. 

When she finally came to the room, he all but _did_ pounce on her, quickly pressing her against the door, trailing kisses from her lips to her ear as his hands attempted to tug at her clothing. She wriggled out of his grasp and pulled away from him after a few moments. But, he was insanely fast and was able to grab her waist and pull her back in for a searing kiss…only to have her move away again. He felt a strong pang of disappointment. Was she really going to deny him? 

“Let me use the washroom, Sabin.” She placed a small kiss on his lips before stepping into the small en suite connected to their cabin. 

Not an outright rejection, but he still may need to lay on the Figaro charm to get to his prize. He was Edgar’s twin after all—he knew deep down he could charm the pants off any woman _if_ he put effort into it—especially _his_ woman. He was confident he knew exactly what made her tick, even in a new setting like the airship.

Sabin quickly stripped down to just his tight boxer-briefs. He knew Celes enjoyed the sight of his body. And even though they currently didn’t have an enemy to fight, he still continued with his training regimen, ensuring his form was near-perfect. He also pulled his hair out of its ponytail, allowing it to flop casually in his face, a slightly roguish grin on his lips. Starting to feel slightly guilty for planning on mildly manipulating his wife into seduction, he paused and reconsidered. 

Then she came out of the bathroom.

Celes was wearing a black silk nightgown, with lace trim. It was so short that if she bent over, he could see every inch of her perky breasts. He shuddered with desire. Sabin stared at her long legs as she sauntered towards him. Seductively slow. He couldn’t stop himself. Her flat stomach, her ample bosom, her beautiful face. Everywhere the eye tracked, she was perfect. She had the smallest of smiles, and he knew he wasn’t going to have to work on seducing her at all. Quite the other way around. 

He was a goner for sure. 

Not even able to think straight as she slowly walked to the bed, he just watched her, and by the time she started to crawl over him, like a graceful panther, he was achingly hard. She straddled his lap and leaned down to catch his lips in a kiss.

That was enough to kick his brain alive, and he threaded his hand through her hair and pressed his lips back to hers. His other hand found her waist, pulling her to grind against his lap, and he realized quickly that she was not wearing any underwear. Was she trying to kill him? He groaned in appreciation against her lips eliciting the smallest of laughs from her.

She was _definitely_ trying to kill him.

Celes was _rarely_ the instigator in the bedroom, even if she was an eager and willing participant. She let him take the lead and never complained. So, Sabin relished when she took control. It was also on the airship cabin, which somehow made it all the more illicit and exciting.

Her lips were on his neck now, trailing up his chin as her hand snaked down to rub against his member, quickly slipping beneath the waistband of his boxers. He hissed at the contact and lifted his hips so he could shimmy out of the undergarment, giving her better access to him. All the shifting made her straddle his muscular thigh and he could feel her arousal on his skin, and her sweet smell permeated his senses. He pushed his leg against her as she ground slightly into him with a small whimper.

Sabin threaded his hands through her long hair and tugged to gently turn her mouth up so he could capture it in a searing kiss. Celes adjusted herself, once again straddling his as he attacked her mouth with his lips. His hand stayed tangled in her silky hair, while the other roamed in the small space between their bodies. Even through the thin material of her nightgown, her breasts were begging to be squeezed. And so, he did. His manhood was getting soaked with her essence, and he was dying to plunge into her, but she wasn’t letting him.

She was killing him, and she knew it.

He felt her small hands pushing on him, and he obliged, sinking his head onto the pillows as she leaned down, continuing their kiss. It was clear he wasn’t going to have to do any work, and he wasn’t going to complain. His hand traced along her shoulders, pushing down the small straps of her slip to reveal her generous bosom.

Her kisses trailed down his neck and chest, every once and a while her teeth grazing against his skin, causing him to grunt slightly. He wasn’t sure how much more of the teasing he could take, as she placed a kiss on his belly button and continued to trail lower, hands resting on his hips. 

Looking up at him through her long lashes and hooded eyes, he could tell she was enjoying teasing him. Immensely. She placed a small kiss on the tip of his manhood, and he all but bucked into her mouth. Another kiss. And another. His eyes widened as she licked him. “Celes… _please…,_ ” he managed to moan, hands reaching down to grab at her hair.

Then her mouth was gone. 

Gods, she really _was_ going to kill him.

He let out of strained groan, screwing his eyes shut in frustration, and tried not to pound his fist on the bed as he vaguely registered his boxers being completely pulled off.

“Sabin…” Her voice was silky, and full of passion as she began a slow ascent back up the length of his body. 

Something was tickling his face, and he opened his eyes to see her staring down at him—love shining in her eyes, her hair tumbling around her and brushing against him. It was times like these, that he really _saw_ her. When she completely let her guard down. From the look in her eyes, he knew the teasing was over.

He was so in love with her it practically hurt.

She lifted up her hips and he felt her icy hand positioning him as she guided his swollen manhood within her body with a deep moan, the material of her slip gathered around her slim waist. She stilled for a second and he pushed his hips up, feeling himself hit the top of her. Filling her completely. Celes braced her hands on his solid chest and slowly ground her hips into his.

Sabin’s eyes practically rolled into the back of his head at the sensation. She moved agonizingly slow, but he was sure he could explode at any moment. His hands found their way to his hips, digging his fingers into her skin, moving along with her as he gripped at them tightly. It was too much, and he was about to finish when they had barely started. Obviously, she sensed it, and mercifully stopped her movements and gave him a very coy smile, wiggling a finger at him. 

Sabin thought the sight of his wife on top of him, moaning in pleasure as she ground against him, her beautiful hair tumbling over her chest was the most erotic thing he had ever seen. And then she started again, and this time lifted her hips up, almost until he was completely out of her, only to slide back down. He could see every inch of himself slowly disappear into her glistening sex.

“Oh shit…” he groaned, gripping her hips tighter. Celes was bracing her hands on his strong thighs now, arching her back. He could feel the tips of her hair tickling the skin of his legs, and her hands clawing at his thighs as she rode him. Her gorgeous chest bouncing with her movement. “Don’t stop…” He grunted, darting his gaze from the place where their bodies were intimately attached, to her pleasure-laden face.

He wasn’t going to last very long and based on the noises she was making and the speed of her pace, neither was she. They finished together, her spasming around him, milking him for everything he was worth. Sabin gasped as he filled her, sitting up and crushing her shuddering body to his chest, pushing her hips down onto his as he tried to control his breathing.

“Khodaye man, Celes.” He groaned into her neck.

She tilted her head down to kiss him, her hands tangling in his loose hair. “Tu es tellement parfait…” She whispered in his ear. Her breath puffed against his cheek, and he could feel her heart thundering within her chest as she pressed her bosom against his body. Celes sat for a long moment, embracing him tightly, before climbing off of him. 

Replacing her nightgown straps on her shoulders, she gingerly crawled under the covers of their bed with a content sigh. After replacing his boxers, he joined her, wrapping his arms around her, and burying his face in her hair.

He briefly reflected on the fact that this was the first time they had slept together outside of Figaro. It felt strange to be away from the castle, even though he had spent so many years out in the world at large. It had become home again, and a lot of that was because of her presence.

“Joon-am?” He asked softly.

“We aren’t in Figaro, Sabin, Edgar isn’t here for you to run off to,” she teased, burrowing into his embrace.

Sabin chuckled slightly. “Come on now—it’s _you_ I wanna talk to.”

“What’s on your mind?”

“Did I do something to upset Terra?” The last thing Sabin wanted was to upset the other woman. He respected her—and enjoyed her companionship—immensely. But sometimes when it came to more personal matters, he felt like a complete oaf.

Celes paused for longer than Sabin would have liked. Finally, after a deep sigh, she spoke. “You did nothing wrong, you had no way of knowing. Terra is being asked to leave Mobliz. Given her… _heritage_ …Duane and Katarin don’t want her around the children. They—worry.”

Sabin scoffed, pulling back slightly so that he could lean over Celes to meet her gaze. “That doesn’t make any sense…”

“People fear magic after Kefka, Sabin. They would likely say the same about me. And for good reason.”

He groaned, flopping back on the pillows. “You know that’s garbage. Terra saved those kid’s lives. They…they saved her.”

Celes rolled over, curling into his chest. “Yet, it’s reality. Do you think the council at Figaro would be accepting of our union if they knew I had been infused with magicite?”

Absentmindedly running his hand along her arm, Sabin sighed. He had no idea that Celes’ powers had been hidden from most of Figaro. Probably a wise decision on Edgar’s part. Knowing she was a former general that helped with the invasion of South Figaro was bad enough. If people were afraid of her…

“I won’t let them run your— _our_ —lives, Celes.”

“I know, Sabin. But you know sometimes the best strategy is to avoid a battle. Anyway, I offered Terra refuge in Figaro—I hope that’s alright.”

Sabin chuckled with a snort. “Edgar will be thrilled.”

“Edgar needs to keep his hands to himself.”

The chuckle turned into earnest laughter. “Ain’t that the truth.” After his laughter subsided, Sabin let out a deep sigh. “Maybe…maybe Terra will do well in Figaro—it can be another chance for her. I know you would enjoy having her there.”

“Honestly, I hope she can help me understand the magicite within me. Maybe…” She didn’t finish her thought, instead just placed a small kiss on Sabin’s chest and closed her eyes.

The hum of the Falcon’s engine permeated the dark silence, a soft noise lulling them both to dreamless sleep. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Desert Nights**

**Chapter 8**

* * *

Thamasa was one of the few towns that was not completely gutted when the World ended. The land was always greener than most places, even when Kefka was still around. Celes had said something about ancient magic protecting it. Strago’s ancestors and the mages blessed the land. In the near year since Kefka’s defeat, Thamasa had thrived, albeit as isolated as they could be. Buildings were repaired, the water was blue, crops were growing, and flowers were blooming. It felt like the World of Balance. Almost.

Sabin sat in the grass near a small pond, watching Celes speak with Strago in the distance. He knew Strago had zero respect for him as anything other than a muscle-bound meathead, so it made more sense to just let Celes do her thing. Dealing with the old crank rolling his eyes every time he drew a breath would get on his last nerve anyway.

Relm flopped down next to him with a dramatic sigh, but said nothing.

Sabin looked over at the teen next to him. She had grown up considerably since he last saw her, blossoming out of her adolescent awkwardness and into a fine young lady. She could even pass for a debutant in Jidoor in a year or so if she wanted to. As long as she didn’t open that sassy mouth of hers. Sabin chuckled to himself at that thought, Relm prancing around in high society in a ballgown was about as ill-fitted as Gau. While it wasn’t Sabin’s forte either, he at least knew how to put on the _show_. Thanks to his late mother.

“Married, huh?” Relm asked as casually as possible.

“How did you know?”

The artist rolled her eyes. “Well, you came here _together_ , for starters. You always made goo-goo eyes at her when I was with you guys. Now, she’s wearing a wedding ring with a ruby on it. _And_ your brother told me, like, four months ago.”

“ _Goo-goo_ eyes?”

“Yeah, you know. All starry eyed. Staring at her when she wasn’t looking. With this forlorn look on your face. Coming up with reasons to accidentally touch her. ‘Oh Celes, let me help you over this rock!’” She attempted to lower her voice to Sabin’s strong baritone. “You’d somehow make sure you were sleeping near her. I’m not stupid, old man. I even drew you one time, look.” Flipping through her sketchbook, she displayed a lifelike sketch of him with a sad expression on his face.

“I forgot how annoying you were. And I’m not _old._ I’m thirty-two.” Sabin flicked the feather in her hat.

“Edgar and I would talk about it all the time. You were _so_ obvious. How no one else noticed is beyond me. Celes certainly had no clue. I mean, I get it, she’s a babe. And, yowza, with that chest…” 

Edgar really had to stop confiding in a fourteen-year-old. But, the king always had a soft spot for Relm. Had he really been that obvious?

Sabin flopped onto his back with a groan, covering his face with his hands. “ _Sweet shiva_ , Relm. Can you attempt, for once, to act appropriate? Or at least, your _age_?”

“Bet Locke was _pissed._ ”

Sabin didn’t need to defend his actions, or point out the fact that Locke was still unaware of Celes’ and his union. “Adults make choices, kid.”

“Practically took a move out of your brother’s playbook. Never would have thought you had it in you to steal that ice queen.”

“I didn’t _steal_ her…don’t be such a brat. I love her very much.”

“I can tell.” She turned her sketchbook to a blank page, starting to sketch the woman in question from across the town. “Geez, even now she’s impossible to draw. I’ve never been able to. Does she _ever_ smile? She’s the only person I’ve never been able to _see_ , you know? I can’t capture her.”

“She’s like the snow.”

Relm raised an eyebrow and looked at Sabin with a confused look. “ _Snow?_ ”

Sabin was no bard, but he tried. “Yeah, you know. You catch a snowflake and can’t really see what it looks like with the naked eye. Impossible to see what it _really_ looks like, at least. But, you know, its totally perfect and pure. Then, it melts before you know it. Disappears.”

“You would make a terrible poet, old man. What the hell does _that_ mean?”

He propped himself up on his elbows so he could gaze at Celes across the water. “Despite everything, Celes is an innocent. Yes, she is really hard to know. Then, when you think you _finally_ understand her, poof, she is something else, or, somewhere else. You can only see her if she _lets_ you. A lot of layers...”

Relm huffed slightly, causing the feather in her hat to flutter. “She never took me seriously.”

“Give her a break, she was already in the Imperial Army by your age.”

Relm waved a hand dismissively. “Yeah, yeah…”

“Hey.”

“Hmm—what?” She said absently, intent on her sketch.

“You should write to Gau. There aren’t many people his age in Doma.”

A blush spread across Relm’s cheeks and she turned her face away from him.

Sabin smirked. “I think he’d appreciate the letters. Good practice for him too…” Sabin lifted his legs up and flipped forward onto his feet with ease, dusting the dirt off the back of his pants. “Anyway…I’m gonna go check on those two.”

“Sabin…wait. I need to talk to you about something.”

He didn’t sit back down, but waited for her to continue.

“Grandpa is an old cranky coot.”

Sabin sighed. “You say that all the time…is that all?”

Relm grumbled. “No—he isn’t going to help you. _Because_ he’s an old cranky coot. He doesn’t want to get involved. Wants Thamasa to go back into isolation and is worried Figaro is just power hungry. Told me to not even talk to you guys.”

Sabin crossed his arms, frowning. “Figaro is nothing like the Empire.”

The teen nodded. “I know, I know. But it’s also because of Celes. Grandad calls her an _abomination._ ”

“ _Excuse me?_ ”

She held up her hands defensively. “ _I_ don’t believe it! But, he’s got crazy theories on magicite. He says the union of human with magicite is unnatural.”

Sabin sighed deeply. “Well, it _is_ unnatural, its why no one survives it in the dosing that’s needed to create natural magic.”

“Yeah, but her and Kefka _did._ Grandpa thinks that since the magicite is shards of broken Espers…that they still retain parts of the Esper within them. The Espers are angry at the host and fight against it. Eventually they win. The shards of the Esper eat the host’s brain. Like a parasite. He doesn’t trust Celes because he believes she is cursed by the Espers, by magic.”

Sabin remained silent. Contemplative. Celes did not get as much magicite as Kefka, as far as he knew. That’s why Kefka’s magic was far superior. The dosing and magic power outcome were related. Unfortunately, Strago’s theory made a lot of sense and wasn’t all that different from what Celes’ deepest fears were.

“He says that…there’s a reason Celes could survive it. Something different about her and Kefka. Whatever it was…he’s afraid of it.”

“Celes _isn’t_ Kefka. She’s pure. Her heart…its pure as snow.”

Relm stood and cautiously reached up to pat Sabin on the shoulder. “I know. I think I can finally capture her now.”

Sabin took a deep breath and tried to calm himself as he continued to watch Celes interact with Strago.

“There’s something else. Listen…Shadow, he’s alive.” Relm whispered softly to him.

“ _What?”_

“He survived. Came to visit and talked to me. We’ve been writing. I think…you should find him and talk to him. He…knows things.” 

Relm smiled slightly while talking about Shadow. Apparently the two had come to a mutual understanding about their relationship. Sabin was happy for her. Even if they didn’t always see eye-to-eye, Sabin would give anything to speak to his father one more time. To see that he stepped up to his royal duties—fulfilled his father’s wishes. 

Nobody would ever accuse Shadow of being a great father to Relm, but at least they were moving in the right direction.

* * *

Leo’s grave had been kept up, even in the World of Ruin. While it had some wear and tear, there were still fresh flowers at the bottom, and it was obvious someone from the village tended to it. That fact made Terra happy. Leo had always been a man of impeccable moral character—and died protecting Thamasa. She was glad the villagers still recognized and honored that.

Kneeling on the ground, she closed her eyes and pressed her forehead to the cold granite of the tombstone.

“I wish I could talk to you,” Terra spoke softly into the stone. “We could use your help. Celes needs your help…”

The young woman sighed deeply, a small tear escaping down her cheek. “I’m…ready now. I understand what you said to me. Yet, I’m all alone. I know I shouldn’t feel jealous, but…I wish you were here.”

_“The way you look at her, General Leo. It’s always been that way…do you…love her?” Terra asked, mildly embarrassed, as she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. The wind propelling the ship in the sea was howling, making her words almost impossible to hear._

_Leo stared at her with a strange expression, as if experiencing an internal debate on what to say. “Celes? Love her? Not in the way you think. I see her as my ward.”_

_“Your ward? What? Why? She doesn’t need anyone looking out for her.”_

_The smallest of sighs escaped Leo’s lips. “Our relationship is…complicated. I have a duty to her. She didn’t have the luxury of choosing not to be infused with magicite, like I did. Most magitek knights are infused with their armor. The magicite is within the machine rather than the person. But Celes and Kefka…it was placed directly in their brains.”_

_Terra’s eyes widened. “She didn’t want it?”_

_“She was never given a choice. She was a child. I…failed her. Just like…I failed you when they used the slave crown.”_

_“You really feel like you failed me? I didn’t even think you noticed, or…cared.”_

_The general seemed taken aback by the statement. “Of course, I do! I’ve watched you grow into a remarkable young woman.”_

_“But…what does that mean? The Esper side of me…am I broken? I don’t know if I can ever… **feel**.”_

_Leo shook his head. “You are young, Terra. There is a difference. You will understand love someday. I promise.”_

Tears were now streaming down Terra’s cheeks as she recalled their conversation on the journey to Thamasa all those years ago. She still did not understand what Leo had meant when she called Celes his “ward”, but it was clear he felt some deep obligation towards the female general.

One thing she did know…Leo was right. She understood love after the orphans in Mobliz. She was full of it and wanted to share. She was so _ready_. But she was alone.

Alone. 

_The fire glowed softly in the village square. Tomorrow they would journey to find the Espers and negotiate with them. Terra was equal parts terrified and excited. She felt a presence by her side and found Leo standing next to her. Tall. Solid. Calm. He was always a welcome presence._

_Celes and Locke were some distance away talking, and Terra could tell from the pained expression on Celes’ face, that she had not forgiven Locke for doubting her in Vector._

_“Terra,” Leo cleared his throat. His voice was slightly hoarse. “I want you to know. When you do…figure things out…”_

_He gently grasped her hands and turned her to face him. The firelight was casting mesmerizing illumination on his sharp jawline and cheekbones, and Terra found herself being held momentarily captive._

_His face was so close. When did it get so close?_

_“I’ll be waiting for you.” His words were practically spoken against her lips and she wasn’t sure who closed the gap between their mouths. All she knew is that they were kissing. Gently. Cautiously._

_And in an instant, it was over._

_Leo bowed, apologizing. “Inappropriate, forgive me…” He murmured before all but running from her._

_Terra stood with her hands to her lips, her mouth parted. What was that feeling in her stomach?_

She suppressed an audible sob and tried unsuccessfully to control her crying. With a muffled intake of breath, Terra stood and wiped furiously at her eyes. Leo would not want her to cry.

Also, she had an audience.

“I miss him too…” Celes whispered softly.

Terra did not look at her, instead averting her eyes so Celes would not see how red and puffy they likely were. “Go ahead…I’m sure you want time with him. I’ll head back.” She had always been slightly envious of the casual closeness between Leo and Celes.

A gentle hand on her shoulder and a soothing voice. “Thank you. I don’t mind if you stay.”

Terra heard rustling behind her, and out of the corner of her eye saw Celes kneel in front of the tombstone and place her hand on the granite.

Words in her mysterious language. The one she had heard Leo and her speak to each other drifted into the air.

Terra slowly walked away and did not look back.

* * *

Celes was crouched in front of Leo’s grave, speaking softly. Sabin wanted to give her time there before they left. He knew Leo was important to her—even more important now that she had learned about Ternes.

“Pourquoi ne pas m’avoir dit qui vous etiez…” She whispered.

“Quoi d’autre je ne se pas…qu’est-ce qui ne va pas?”

“Tu le sais que…je suis brisé mon âme.”

“ _Combien de temps me reste-t-il_?”

Relm appeared next to Sabin, obviously eavesdropping on Celes. “What is she saying?”

“You shouldn’t listen in on people, Relm…” Sabin hissed down at her.

The girl shrugged. “Well—sort of seems that’s exactly what _you’re_ doing right now. It’s not like I can understand it—so, what did she say?”

Sabin sighed. “She asked why he didn’t tell her who he really was.”

“She said more than that.”

The monk shrugged, shaking his head. “Couldn’t hear it.”

Relm looked up at him questioningly. “You’re a terrible liar, old man.”

“Let’s just say, I’m pretty sure your grandfather told her his theories on magicite.”

* * *

After ensuring Celes was asleep on the airship, Sabin found he needed fresh air and meditation. He normally would seek Edgar’s counsel on nights like these. It was strange how quickly he had readjusted to life back in Figaro after so long away—and now he was away once again. 

Grabbing his pipe and donning a pair of sweatpants, he made his way to the deck, after instructing Pierre to listen by their door in case Celes awoke. Both Relm’s and Celes’ words after leaving Thamasa had been weighing on him.

_“I don’t know how much time we have. I want to experience as much as I can…with you, Sabin.”_

It’s not like she was dying, right? They had their future, their whole lives…killing Kefka had all but _ensured_ that. She had never exhibited any side effects of magicite as far as he could tell—aside from the fact that her skin was always freezing cold. If the magicite were going to devour her brain, wouldn’t that have already happened? Or at least they’d see signs? One thing was certain from visiting both Mobliz and Thamasa—magic was once again considered dangerous, and anyone associated with magicite was not to be trusted. Thanks to Kefka.

It was imperative that they keep Celes’ history a secret.

Sighing deeply, Sabin took a deep inhale from his soothing pipe. The night was calm and they were lazily floating towards Doma.

“That’s some funny smelling tobacco, Sabin.” Terra’s voice cut through the darkness and Sabin noticed her scrunching up her nose.

The monk smirked slightly. “It’s special grasses that only grow on Mount Kolts. It’s meant to aid in relaxation and meditation. Old Duncan blend.” He offered Terra the pipe. “Wanna try?”

Terra shrugged and took the pipe, taking an experimental puff. With a cough and making a face, she returned it to him. “I’m guessing its an acquired taste.”

Sabin laughed in his familiar bellowing guffaw. “Probably true. Celes likes the smell, but she only lets me smoke outside.”

Hiding a smirk, Terra shook her head. “I think she just likes the smell on _you_ , silly.”

“She said that the smell helped on the road. She would know I was nearby, I guess. A comfort—” he said the word while making air-quotes with one hand. “—though you know she would never say that.”

Terra giggled slightly, and looped her arm around Sabin’s, leaning her head against his shoulder. “I always thought you were a big bear…but maybe you are a sly _fox_?”

“Watch it, Branford…” Sabin teased, blowing a few smoke rings into the air.

“Once a Figaro, always a Figaro—you’re more like Edgar than you let on, Mr. Fox.”

Sabin glanced down at the girl on his arm inquisitively. “What? You think I shouldn’t have taken my shot? Or behaved differently?”

“No, no, not at all…you’re good for Celes. She seems happier than I’ve ever seen her. Its just easy to tease you.”

They stared at the sky in silence for a while.

“Hey…” He finally broke the reverie.

“What’s up?”

“I’m sorry about the orphanage. That really…sucks. Its not fair.”

Terra sighed deeply. “I could have stayed if I pushed it. _Probably._ ”

“But…”

She shook her head. “Do I really want to force myself on them? In the end is that what’s best for the children? _Tension?”_

Sabin extracted his arm from Terra’s and instead wrapped it around her shoulder. “I don’t understand why they don’t want your magic? Its good protection.”

“I think its more that they’re concerned with who my powers will attract to the village…” She said softly.

“…like us?”

“No. You guys are fine. I mean whoever wants to take advantage of magic in the future…there will always be a threat somewhere.”

Sabin felt a small tug of guilt. Should they have never bothered Terra? “Did we mess up by visiting? Making you come to fight?”

“Never, Sabin. That was destiny. Besides—”

Her comment was never finished. Sabin sensed the air shift around her and could see the small pink flames at her fingertips, her eyes glowing as her Esper form began to take over.

“Terra?” He cautiously removed his arm from her shoulder and tried to meet her gaze. “What’s wrong?”

“Magic…” she whispered softly, her body half-way between forms.

“ _Where_?”

“ _Shahzadeh!!_ ” Pierre ran to the deck from the captain’s quarters. Upon seeing Terra, he hesitated, obviously unsure if he could speak freely.

Exchanging a quick glance with Sabin, Terra erupted fully into her Esper form and she and Sabin raced to the cabin where Celes was supposed to be sleeping.

Pierre was running behind them, trying to catch up, but was stopped by Sabin’s strong hand on his shoulder. Barely holding onto control, Sabin shoved the squire to the deck, knocking him off balance and onto his backside. “Wait _here._ ” 

There was no way he wanted Pierre to see whatever state Celes was in—especially given it had spooked Terra. Sabin felt slightly bad for how roughly he had treated the kid, but couldn’t worry about that at the moment. 

Practically ripping the cabin door off its hinges, he found Terra cradling Celes to her Esper form, murmuring something in her ear.

_“…laisses me faire du mal…”_ Celes was shaking in the other girl’s arms, her words moaning out in immeasurable pain.

Terra looked up as Sabin arrived, preparing to move Celes into his outstretched arms. “Is she…always _this_ cold?”

Sabin gingerly pulled Celes into his embrace, shaking her gently. Her skin burnt his with an icy blast. He was used to her always being abnormally cold, but not like this. This was downright painful. “No. She’s not. Not even close. Joon-am…wake up.”

_“…il me touchait…”_

“ _Shiva…”_ Terra whispered under her breath.

Sabin began to shake Celes harder in his arms. “Celes, come back.”

His movements betrayed the fact that this was nowhere close to the first time he had to wake Celes in the middle of the night, and he was sure Terra noticed.

_“Maitre…ne me touchez pas!”_

A strange look crossed Terra’s face. “Sabin, stop,” she reached out to halt him from shaking the blonde and Sabin practically recoiled away from her, clutching Celes to his chest protectively.

“S—sorry…” He apologized softly, but stopped his movements to wait to hear what Terra had to say.

“I don’t think we should wake her like this…with how cold she is—I’m afraid it might startle her into a burst of magic. Let’s get her into a deep sleep first, then wake her.”

The monk nodded and loosened his grip slightly on Celes, allowing Terra to get closer.

The glowing Esper scooted as close as she could to Celes on the bed and leaned over her, pressing her lips to her forehead, then against her ear. Sabin could hear her chanting something in the ancient language of the Espers and found himself getting slightly drowsy. 

He was quickly yanked from his stupor as Terra’s rhythmic chanting stopped. Celes seemed in a deep sleep in his arms. “Should I--?”

“I think so, yes. I only got her out of the dream for a moment, but she may slip back.”

Sabin very gently shook the woman in his arms. He quickly was aware that her skin was back to its normal death-like cold temperature, not the burning sting it was before. “Joon-am…my breath…my life…please wake up.” He said it softly enough hoping Terra would not overhear.

Her eyes fluttered open easily and only had a wild look for a moment before she took in her surroundings. “Sabin…” She buried her face into his chest for an instant, as if willing bad spirits away.

Celes then turned to Terra and hugged her tightly. “I could hear you…” she mumbled to the still-Esper. “You made _him_ go away.”

Sabin’s head snapped up, catching Terra’s glowing eyes. The look on her face made it clear she didn’t know what it meant either.

“You’re fine now, Celes. I’ll leave the two of you be.” Terra slowly stood from the bed. She was about to power down to her human form when she paused, gazing at Celes intently, eyes traveling up and down her slip-clad body. Almost as if she was reading the other woman’s chi.

“You…you _know_. Don’t you.” Terra’s words were not a question as her body returned to its human form.

The two women exchanged a quick cursory glance before Celes stared down at her hands. Something immense had been communicated within those few seconds that Sabin did not understand. At all.

* * *

Terra exited their cabin, closing the door gently before leaning the back of her head against it.

She could hear their voices on the other side. Sabin’s full of questions, concerns, and passion. Celes’ with uncharacteristic hesitation and fear. She did manage to catch the tail end of one thing.

_“…smell like your pipe…”_

Seeing the intimacy between the couple made Terra both ecstatic and sad at the same time. At least before she had the orphans. Now she was starting over. Maybe Duane and Katarin would eventually change their minds. She could at least write to the children in the meantime.

Right now, there were some serious concerns to deal with first.

Hearing the tone of the voices behind the door shift into a very different cadence, Terra blushed and realized it was time to return to her own rooms.

Had she not sedated Celes out of her trance-like dream, the former general would have likely awoken with a burst of magic, a blizzard strong enough to knock even a solid wall like Sabin off his feet. If this was a common occurrence, and she got the feeling, based on Sabin’s reaction that it wasn’t _uncommon_ …maybe she should consider sedating Celes on a regular basis.

Then there was the other question. While she did not understand Celes’ language, there was a word that stood out. It clearly had stood out to Sabin as well.

Who was _‘Maitre’_ and what had they done to Celes?


	9. Chapter 9

**Desert Nights**

**Chapter 9**

* * *

Nightfall on the deck of the airship truly was a spectacle worth enjoying. Celes leaned over the railing, enjoying the feeling of the soft breeze against her skin. Her hair was pulled back in a high ponytail and she realized she looked like Terra like this—it made her briefly consider if Terra’s mother was from Ternes as well. They knew nearly as little of Terra’s family tree as they did of Celes’—only the basics.

In a strange way, Terra was her oldest friend. They had known each other almost their entire lives, even if large chunks of said lives were missing from their memories. They had also been used as examples to each other—to keep them under the tight reins of the Empire and Gestahl. Celes had often been threatened with the slave crown growing up, and had even suffered its effects. 

Fear was a powerful motivator.

As far as either woman knew, they were two of the last living people who could use magic without an Esper equipped. There were a few of Strago’s people using blue magic—but that was a different beast entirely. Either way, magic was uncommon. And feared. No wonder Strago just wanted to disappear off the map. Celes didn’t blame him one bit.

Glancing over, she caught sight of Sabin, sitting on one of the wooden high-backed chairs, lighting his pipe. The waning sunlight cast shadows across his strong jaw, highlighting his cheekbones and the sharp angle of his nose. There was the smallest of smiles on his face. He was shirtless, and anyone with eyes had to admire the perfectly toned muscles of his upper body.

He really was devastatingly handsome. And a prince. Combined with his overall carefree demeanor, kindness, strong sense of justice, and the godlike body. Add on the Figaro smile and charm? It was no wonder almost every woman that met him swooned. 

Who would have thought that _she_ , of all people, Imperial general, would end up married to the errant prince of _Figaro_? It was almost laughable. Gestahl had plans for her. She was promised to someone, of that she was certain. Likely a deal that if and when she produced children, Gestahl could check them to see if they could produce magic, and if not, he would infuse them as well. Maybe she had even been promised to someone in the Empire.

Or maybe even Kefka himself.

If she hadn’t been sentenced to death for protesting the occupation of South Figaro, she would have been sentenced to death for refusing to marry whoever Gestahl handed her over to. And if she was forced, she would kill herself.

They were all dead now anyhow. 

She made the right choice, going with Sabin to Figaro. Letting him touch her. She had done some things with Locke before the World ended, but had never got to the point where she felt comfortable enough to truly be vulnerable. Always in someone’s shadow, fulfilling some prophecy Locke had. Viewed as a project, a rescue, rather than just _her_. It would be hard when she faced Locke again. But there was no turning back now. 

Terra interrupted her thoughts, sliding next to her and pressing her shoulder against the former general. “How’s lover-boy?”

The blonde snorted slightly at the term. “I think he misses Edgar, honestly.”

Terra giggled. “So, have you told him yet?”

Celes feigned innocence. “Told him what?”

“You _know_ what. I sensed it the other night, and I know you know.”

Celes shook her head. “Not yet. I’m…I’m not ready for things to change between us. To be honest—I’m…afraid.”

Terra nodded in understanding. “You aren’t going to be able to hide it much longer, you know. Sabin can be a little dense sometimes, but…”

“I know, Terra.”

The half-esper lowered her voice. “What about the dreams? Memories? Real or fiction?”

Celes sighed deeply. “Memories. I think. Of my youth. Of the Empire. Magicite.”

“Fritz?”

Celes nodded mutely.

Terra squeezed her hand gently. “I think I should start casting sleep or mute on you before you go to bed each night. Just in case. The last thing we need is for you to cast magic in your sleep and—”

_Hurt Sabin._

The last part was left unspoken.

Clearing her throat, Terra changed the subject. “You ready to go to Doma? Sabin said it has changed a lot according to Cyan. The castle has repopulated and is strengthening.”

Celes smiled a bit. “Sabin is doing the talking and work in Doma. He speaks the language, he’s a martial artist…they understand each other. I will play the role of demure, submissive wife.”

“Bet Sabin will _love_ that.”

Letting out a choked laugh, Celes covered her mouth so the noise didn’t travel over to the person in question. “Probably so. I’ll happily take on any of their samurai who want to challenge me to a sword fight though. And happily obliterate them all.” She winked at Terra. “Sabin is a hero to Doma after trying to save it from Kefka’s poison. It’s the right move to have him be the point person. I have complete faith in him.”

* * *

Doma had indeed repopulated after the defeat of Kefka. The initial poisoning of the land did not deplete all their ranks, though it certainly hurt. After the King died, the rest of the Domans fled to the far corners of the World. Now with Kefka gone, they were back in the castle. Cyan was the natural leader, however all decisions were made by a council of warriors, including him.

Celes opted for her comfortable attire of leggings and a tunic for entering Doma. Later, they’d have to don formal eveningwear for the regal dinner, where Sabin would plead his case for Figaro, but for now, comfort reigned supreme. Not that he really would have to plead a case, the alliance between Doma and Figaro was natural. Doma was still a nation of luddites, but had fruitful land in the Veldt, and Figaro was the most technically advanced land. They would benefit each other.

Setzer remained on the airship as Terra, Celes, and Sabin made their way to the large wooden doors of Doma Castle. 

Well—they had planned to anyway. Before they could address the guards at the entrance, they were interrupted by a shrill scream and Setzer’s irate voice.

“ _Stow away!”_

Setzer was tugging someone—or something—but the scruff of their neck. He tossed them unceremoniously in front of Sabin and Celes. The hat gave her away immediately.

Relm Arrowny.

The teen in question stood up and pointed her nose in the air defiantly, dusting imaginary dirt off her paint covered overalls. She scoffed in Setzer’s direction. “You didn’t have to manhandle me, jerk!”

The gambler shrugged and headed back to the airship. “Just let me know what to do with her.”

No one said anything. Setzer was leaving the decisions for the airship up to them. Which seemed strange.

Then again, if the airship was officially acting for Figaro now, that meant all decisions would lie with the highest-ranking Figaro official on the ship.

Sabin.

Celes and Terra looked at him expectantly, while Relm put on her best puppy-dog eyes, darting her gaze between the royals of Figaro.

Sabin was un-used to having to make any decisions. Edgar and Celes always did the hard thinking on these things. But Celes was clearly deferring to him. 

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “What are you trying to pull here, kid?”

Relm crossed her arms in front of her. “I’m bored, old ma…uh, Sabin. I wanted to go on another adventure. Plus, I wanna see Figaro Castle and Edgar.”

Sabin groaned. Strago was going to blame him for sure. “Why didn’t you _ask?_ ”

“You would have said no!”

Well that was probably true. 

“Does your grandfather know?” Celes inquired, and Sabin cast her a grateful look.

Relm fidgeted in her spot. That meant _no_ , clearly.

Sabin grasped Celes’ hand in his and turned toward her and Terra. “What do you two think?”

Celes shrugged. “She’s hardly a child anymore.”

The artist’s jaw hung open as she stared at Celes. That was likely the last person she expected coming to her defense. If Celes was on board, Sabin certainly would be as well. Relm looked ready to hug Celes and cry, but waited for the official ‘yes’.

Terra nodded in agreement. “But you have to write to Strago and Shadow and let them know what’s going on.”

Relm jumped up and down excitedly and wrapped her arms around Celes. She was only a few inches shorter than her now. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, _thank you!_ ”

Sabin grabbed her by the back of her shirt and peeled her off his wife. “ _Now,_ Relm. Go write them. _Now_. And you _better_ be on your best behavior, or so help me…”

“Wait on the airship for now,” Celes interrupted. She knew Sabin was irritated. “Write your letters. We have to tell Cyan we have more people than he was expecting. We’re headed to the Veldt in a few hours. You can come.”

Relm’s eyes watered gratefully at Celes and she looked like she was ready to pounce on her again, but Sabin’s steady hand held her back and spun her around in the direction of the airship. The girl muttered obscenities about meatheads the whole walk back.

* * *

The Veldt had remained beautiful even after the World ended. It was a wild and thrilling place to be. Celes had never experienced it before, and Sabin was excited to share it with her. Relm had also never been to the Veldt and looked around in wonder.

They roamed the vast plains and admired the fertile soil. It was strange that the ground hadn’t suffered the same effects of Kefka’s poison as the rest of the World. There must have been magic in the roots of this land to keep it this healthy. 

Celes knelt to the ground and pressed her fingers into the fertile soil, contemplating silently. “Do you feel that, Terra? Relm?”

The two other females also crouched to the ground. Relm was hesitant, but Terra immediately shivered. “Yes. Magic? Flowing through the ground.”

“Moving? From where?” Celes traced a line on the dirt with her hand.

Terra hummed thoughtfully. “We can look around. Try to figure out where it is stronger and weaker.”

Celes nodded and pulled a folded-up piece of parchment from her pocket. “That’s what I thought too. Look…” 

The paper was a rather impressive drawing of the World of Ruin. Various lines were around Thamasa, with a few notes in the margin. Obviously, Celes was marking places where magic was humming, and as a result were more fertile than the rest of the world.

Relm whistled. “I didn’t know you were so good at drawing, Celes!”

Sabin watched the interaction with silent interest.

Celes shook her head. “Drawing? Not at all. Cartography, yes. I studied it growing up. Sort of important skill as a general, you know. Perhaps you could help me with it? The source of the magic has to be somewhere. Like a well. I just have to figure out where.”

The artist’s eyes widened. “Really? You want me to help?”

“With her ability to sense magic and your artistry, I think you and Terra could easily fill in the missing pieces.”

Terra smiled and then turned to the teen. “Let’s go explore, Relm. Leave the royals to wait for Gau, hm?”

Relm seemed about to argue, but after glancing at Sabin, she quickly shut her mouth and followed behind the half-esper, clutching the map in her hands protectively.

* * *

Sabin sighed with contentment and stretched languidly, enjoying the air of the Veldt. No humidity. Crisp, clean. And certainly quieter without the other two girls. Not that he minded their company. But this was something he wanted to share with Celes. “He’ll appear soon. I’m sure of it.”

Celes nodded in acknowledgement, still studying the ground at her feet as they strolled leisurely. 

As if on cue, Gau appeared from nowhere and pounced on Sabin’s back, tackling him. It startled Celes enough that she fell onto her bottom, staring up at the two. 

Before Sabin had the chance, Gau offered his hand to Celes to help her stand, gently pulling her to her feet. “Mr. Thou say that…Gau has to be gentleman to woman.”

As Celes stood, she exchanged an amused glance with Sabin. Sabin was clearly pleased. Cyan had clearly been spending a lot of time with the youth. Gau then pounced on Sabin once more, and Celes watched as they wrestled in some male bonding ritual she didn’t understand. After they were finished, Gau grasped her hand.

“Come. Gau show new princess the Veldt.”

Celes smiled and let him guide her through the fruitful land, pointing out particular plants and various landmarks that had survived.

After some time, he paused. “Weredragons circle. Far away. Gau smell them. Vector hounds, circle in woods over there. Sabin see too.”

“Circling. Doesn’t that seem odd to you? Why aren’t they attacking us?” Sabin asked. Neither of those creatures were particularly known for letting a battle go unengaged.

“No…certain creatures protect…”

“Protect?” Sabin scratched the back of his head.

Suddenly Gau pressed a hand on Celes’ stomach. “Baby…creatures smell it. Gau smell it. They protect.”

Sabin stopped dead in his tracks and stared slack-jawed at Celes. She looked far less surprised than he expected. She had been using the contraceptive mixture…had there been an accident somehow? Why wasn’t she freaking out?

She was…smiling. Her smile started to falter as she noticed his lack of reaction other than just staring at her.

“ _Baby_?” He finally managed to gasp out.

Celes frowned at the tone in his voice, and he realized it must come across that he wasn’t pleased. “Well…I suspected.”

Sabin shook his head, trying to form a coherent thought. “But…I didn’t know we were trying.”

A sad look flashed across Celes’ eyes before she could cover it up. She cleared her throat, voice not betraying any emotion. “Gau, do you mind giving us a moment?”

Gau nodded, not noticing the tension between the couple. Instead he jumped up and down enthusiastically. “Gau go get big boar. Have giant feast and celebrate!”

After the youth had scampered off into the Veldt, Celes turned to Sabin and he could immediately see the pain in her face.

Celes wrung her hands together at her waist. “I thought...you’d be happy.”

Sabin mentally kicked himself. “What? Oh gods, I’m—I’m in shock. I thought you were…” He gestured the way he always did when it came to talking about uncomfortable. A goofy grin started to form. “A _baby?_ ”

Celes smile slowly returned. “Yes. I think so. Terra all but confirmed it the other night when she was in our room in her Esper form.”

He whooped and grabbed her, pulling her into a crushing hug. Laughing happily, he lifted her up and spun her through the air, before setting her down and crushing his lips to hers. 

Leaning their foreheads together, he threaded his hands through her hair until they rested against the back of her neck. “Why didn’t you tell me? If I had known we were trying…” He felt a little guilty about some of their bedroom activities. It somehow seemed wrong to be as vulgar as he could be if they were trying to conceive a child. He mentally tried to picture the many occasions of when it could have happened—which only resulted in him wanting to take her right there in the middle of the Veldt.

Sabin hadn’t paid much attention in the health classes the tutors gave him back in the day other than the parts about how to pleasure a woman’s anatomy, but he knew enough to know that a pregnant woman wouldn’t have a monthly visitor. 

It had been months…he was sure. At least two or three.

Bahamut’s ghost, how dense _was_ he? Between the lack of her flow, the lack of herbs sitting around their room…

The maids struggling to put on her dresses. He _had_ noticed she had put on the smallest amount of weight in her chest and stomach. And her breasts were more sensitive than normal.

The change in her chi. 

He was an idiot. 

It was right in front of him the whole time. His own child’s chi interfering with hers and he didn’t even put two and two together. That had been nearly two months ago!

To think of all the things he had whispered in her ear, the things he had done to her, all with their child growing inside her. He found himself blushing, a mixture of both pleased and guilty.

She was saying something. “Sabin, the _last_ thing I want is for you to treat me differently because of this. Besides, I wasn’t sure if I _could_ get pregnant…because of…the magicite.”

He had long since released her from his embrace as the reality of the situation slowly settled in. But he kept an arm wrapped around her shoulder as they walked through the Veldt, his free hand often coming to rub absently on her flat abdomen, as if he thought something would magically appear, or kick.

Sabin suddenly stopped his walking, soliciting a grunt of protest from his partner. He smacked himself on the forehead. He was intimate with her on at least a daily basis! “But we’ve been, _you know_. I mean…a _lot._ Is that safe for the baby?”

Celes giggled. “Of course its safe. People have been doing this since the beginning of time with no issue.”

“How would I know?” Sabin said defensively.

Celes stepped in front so she could face him. Her eyes were searching his. “You’re happy?”

Sabin smiled and pulled her in for another kiss. “You have _no_ idea how much.” His arms snaked around her, hand squeezing her bottom and pulling her flush against him as the other tangled in her hair, angling her face up to his so he could have better access to her plump lips.

She moaned appreciatively against him and he seriously considered making love to her in the soft grass. But something nagged at the back of his head of why that was an extremely bad idea…

…and that something startled them out of their kiss. “Look! Sabin! Princess! Gau find huge animal for meal!”

Celes pulled back from him with a knowing smirk. “For a monk, you have amazingly little self-control… _Shahzadeh._ ”

Sabin let out a small growl before they both turned to gaze upon the huge boar Gau had caught for dinner. He grabbed the youth in a headlock and ruffled his hair affectionately. “Wow! Impressive, kid! Come on, let’s bring that to Doma.”

Gau smiled happily and grabbed the boar by the hind legs, dragging it effortlessly behind them as they made their way back.

* * *

Upon arriving at the castle, Sabin immediately asked Cyan to summon a doctor for Celes. They were not due back in Figaro for a few more weeks, and he did not want to wait that long to have her examined.

The doctor confirmed their suspicions. She was with child. About twelve to fourteen weeks along. He also reassured Sabin that it was perfectly fine, and healthy, to continue to be intimate with his wife. After being bombarded with a number of extremely specific and detailed questions from Sabin, the poor, slightly flustered doctor finally just told him that whatever they regularly did before being pregnant would be fine in the pregnancy as well, as she was young and healthy.

Sabin found it extremely hard to hide the embarrassed flush cascading over his cheeks.

* * *

A formal dinner being presented as royals meant Sabin and Celes being dressed by the Doman staff. For Sabin, it was simple: a white ensemble with a blue pattern of hakama pants and a top that tied at the waist, but was left mostly open, showing off his defined chest, his hair unbound. Clothes fitting for a noble warrior. 

Celes was taking quite a bit more time. Her hair had been intricately placed on top of her head with ornate barrettes. A long robe of rich heavy silks embroidered with a phoenix pattern. A sash that had to be tied with expertise. The Doman maids were now finalizing her makeup, painting her lips a deep blood red, with a line down her chin. Her face even whiter than normal, eyelashes dark. Her own maids watched in fascination from the doorway.

Sabin watched as well, a slightly bemused look on his face as he listened to the Doman maids chatter in their own language. Every once and a while, Celes caught him covering up his mouth to suppress a laugh as he listened. They likely did not know he could understand them.

He suddenly stood and crossed over to her. The maids moved to the side and he pulled Celes to her feet, examining her carefully. “I like this look on you, joon-am.” He whispered, rubbing the pad of his thumb against her lower lip in an intimate gesture.

She let out a startled surprise as he lifted her effortlessly and sat her on the vanity, his hand snaking underneath her robes, fingers creeping up her thigh. He forced her legs apart with his body, pinning her to the mirror, causing the bottom of her robes to open as his hand crept higher. Despite understanding, after the months of being in Figaro, that the staff were used to far worse (she herself had walked in on Edgar and a courtesan in the throne room), she still felt extremely uncomfortable with public displays. Besides, this wasn’t _their_ castle.

“Fais-mois confiance, femme.” His word breathlessly tickled her face. His lips, much like his hands, began to roam, peppering her neck with kisses, not wanting to ruin her makeup. The feel of his hardness brushing against her core made her gasp and bite back the smallest of moans. It didn’t matter that it was through the fabric of his pants. Another encouraging brush of his hand told her that it was no accident, and the impish look on his face confirmed it. She pushed her hands under his loose top and slid it off his shoulders, leaving it hanging, still tucked in at the waist. One of the Doman maids gasped, but they stayed put, not having been told they could leave.

Another cocky grin on his face, Sabin kissed her again, his hand gripping the back of her neck tightly keeping her lips on his, careful to not ruin her hair. The other hand kept brushing against her, anything but innocent, trapped between their bodies, hidden from the maids. He snaked a finger beneath the thin silk of her panties, tracing her delicate folds.

Celes closed her eyes, not denying him. She never could even if she wanted to, and the triumphant smirk on his face made it obvious he knew it. Complete putty in his hands, she was his to do with as he pleased. However, she certainly was not willing for this to go farther with other people in the room. She was seconds away from panting with what his hidden hand was about to do to her, and she did not want an audience for that.

Sensing it, Sabin pulled back a fraction from her lips, saying something to the maids in Doman, without bothering to look at them. Her own maids had long since vanished, knowing the couple valued privacy. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the remaining maids look positively mortified, realizing quickly that Sabin had understood everything they had said earlier. Whatever he uttered was likely a dismissal, given how quickly they scampered off. He then pressed his thumb against her swollen pearl, rubbing in earnest. She shivered at his touch, trying desperately to ignore it, but a moan escaped her lips that he caught in another rough kiss. 

It wasn’t until she heard the door shut that he finally pulled back, the confident grin still on his face. She wanted to wipe that stupid smirk right off for pulling this little stunt, but there was no way she was going to be left feeling this frustrated. He started to pull his hand away and she grabbed his wrist, keeping it firmly in place. Her look meant only one thing. _Finish what you started._

Sabin’s grin widened and he complied, bringing her to climax quickly with an expert hand, and then once more, just because he _could_. Arrogant beast. He wasn’t stupid enough to think she would return the favor after what he just pulled.

“ _What_ was that?” She looked up at him with slightly glossy eyes, lips swollen, shaking from the aftermath of it all. Her words were breathless with waning ecstasy.

Sabin rested his forehead against her own, retreating his hand and keeping her gaze as he licked his fingers, before gently readjusting her robes. “The maids thought we were arranged. Thought you were cold and didn’t please me. Were debating which one of them would come to my chambers tonight and pleasure me.”

Celes eyes widened. “You’re not serious.”

“Totally. I wanted to quash any thoughts that we weren’t entirely united. Maids gossip. We need to be a strong front. Completely together. They need to know that.”

Celes sighed slightly. She knew Sabin was right. And as much as it made her feel uncomfortable, she realized that in these royal visits, she was going to have to be more affectionate in public. She would never get to Edgar’s level, but she could do more. “I understand. I know what to do.” She said, placing a chaste kiss on his lips before pushing him away so she could get her feet back on the ground.

Sabin frowned slightly, hoping he hadn’t upset her as he watched her glance in the mirror and readjust herself to perfection.

She caught his gaze in the mirror and winked. “After this little stunt, you better make it up to me when we get back to Figaro though.”

Grasping her hand in his, he pulled it to his lips for a kiss. “What kind of prince would I be if I didn’t keep my princess, happy? Hm?”

* * *

Prior to the feast, Sabin and Celes were formally introduced in the throne room. No one occupied the throne, out of respect for the last Doman King. Instead, there were smaller chairs, seven in total, with seven warriors, with Cyan in the center.

Cyan congratulated them on their union. “Lady Celes, you glow with that of a woman who is joyous in marriage.” 

Dinner was a flurry of chatter. Sabin spoke mostly to Cyan at the meal, though he did give a formal address to all the nobility of Doma. They quickly agreed on an alliance with Figaro with the details to be hashed out over the meal.

Celes couldn’t understand any of it, as they all spoke in Doman. Sabin as well, clearly negotiating well, by the looks on everyone’s faces. Thankfully, Terra was sitting to her right, so they could speak and Terra could report on what she and Relm had discovered in the Veldt. She felt a little envious, as Terra was wearing a simple, more comfortable dress and was far less _on display_. Relm and Gau were across from her, Relm drawing something that Gau was trying to describe. A small smile graced her lips. She nodded her head towards Terra at the two and they seemed to share a thought.

_First crush…_

A distracting hand ran up her arm and gently massaged the back of her neck. Sabin always seemed to know when she needed a distraction from her thoughts. He cast her a soft encouraging smile before returning to his conversation with Cyan. Reaching up a hand, she laced their fingers together, kissing his knuckles softly, being sure to that others noticed the exchange. She could sense Sabin’s smile despite the fact that his face was turned away. Gently releasing her hand, he pulled her closer, wrapping his arm around her waist. As she covertly hid her blushing face in the crook of Sabin’s arm, Celes noticed that both men had switched to the language of Vector to continue their conversation. Apparently, the talk had shifted from politics to life, and Celes’ and Terra’s participation would certainly be encouraged.

* * *

After the roasted boar for dinner, and toasts all around, they found themselves back in the guest chambers of Doma Castle. It differed greatly from Figaro’s rooms. Ornate jades forming intricate mosaics, porcelain jars containing everything from perfume to flowers. Plush furniture with soft, velvety cushions so fluffy you could sink in and never come out. The bed was crafted from a rich, sturdy wood, with dragons carved into the headboard. Embroidered silk duvets in rich reds and golds lay on the large bed. 

The day had been long and Celes came from their guest bathroom in a knee-length royal blue slip, her hair piled in a bun on the top of her head. It had taken nearly half an hour to get the makeup off her face, and her lips still seemed blood-red. She slid under the covers with a content sigh.

Sabin smirked and began to disrobe before her, carelessly tossing his clothing on the floor. She raised an eyebrow when he stripped out of his underwear. _Of course, he’s already halfway aroused._ Confident as always that he would get his way. Celes knew for a fact that he had been dying to be inside of her ever since he learned that she was carrying his child, especially after confirming with the doctor that it was perfectly safe.

He crawled over her and tugged off the blankets, covering her with his body as he trailed kisses from her lips to the sensitive part of her neck.

“Mmmm, but…Sabin—” She was gently pushing against him. “We are in Doma and Terra is literally two doors down.” 

She clearly hadn’t forgiven him for his stunt in front of the maids. Sabin paused and sat up slightly to look at her. “So? We are man and wife. And are going to be here for over two weeks…you really think I’m going to go that long without having you?”

He gently grasped her hand and guided it down to his manhood, encouraging her to stroke him. “Are _you_ going to go that long, without feeling me?”

She complied, her familiar icy hand expertly caressing his swollen shaft.

“But—”

He stopped her with a searing kiss. A loud ecstatic groan tumbled from his lips as her grip tightened and she quickened her pace. She could have him at her mercy in seconds. “Joon-am…mmmm...we are visiting, ahhh…royals—" He pulled her hand away before he climaxed prematurely. “Recently married. Remember the maids?”

Grabbing the bottom of her silk slip, he pushed it up her thighs, and she shifted her hips so he could gather it at her waist. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath. 

Sabin smirked. “I see I didn’t have to try so hard to convince you.” He slipped a pillow beneath her bottom for a better angle. Then, he gently eased her legs apart and spread her wide open so he could admire his prize.

He had no desire for foreplay—he just wanted to be inside her. “Woman, I have made love to you every day since we became one. I have zero intention of stopping that streak.”

He slid within her, relishing in the warmth. A satisfied moan rumbled in his throat. Celes sighed contentedly, happy to oblige him. Lacing his fingers with hers, he gave her hand an affectionate squeeze, his other hand brushing a few strands of hair from her face. “One thing though,” he whispered against her lips, “you’re going to have to be quiet. _For once_.”

Sabin moved languidly, intent on enjoying every moment of their union. The way Celes scratched her nails up his spine, the warmth of her intimate embrace on his manhood. The sound of her sighs, her rapidly increasing breaths. This was going to be quick—for them both. She was close, and even though his need for release was aching, he was not about to let her go unpleased.

“Celes…let go…” Sabin kissed her neck, his thrusts precise and strong. “Let go…for me…I want to feel you…”

Celes bit her lip, stifling a moan. She squeezed her eyes shut, deep within the throes of her ecstasy. Blindly, she patted around for a pillow. She pressed it against her face and screamed out in passion as she reached her pinnacle.

That was all Sabin needed. He buried his face in the other side of the pillow and bellowed out a thunderous roar. When he was spent, he hastily cast the pillow aside. It bumped the nightstand, sending a gilded candlestick tumbling to the floor. Thankfully, it hadn’t been burning.

Sabin didn’t withdraw right away, and instead kept his weight on her, his breath tickling her ear. He had no intention of moving until he had to.

“Celes…” He murmured against her neck.

“Hmmm…” She let out an extremely content sound, her hand tracing circles on his back.

“Why did you…stop taking the herbs?”

She sighed deeply, clearly not really wanting to have this conversation. “Well…a little bird told me that the council was going to start pressuring you…”

Sabin propped up on an elbow so he could look at her. “Edgar?”

“No. It wasn’t Edgar. I know how you feel about all the succession pressure…because of your father, and the coin…I didn’t want you to have to go through that again, have the council bothering you.”

Sabin felt a strong tug in his heart. Celes had become pregnant essentially to protect him? This wasn’t exactly the way he had pictured it happening.

“But—”

Celes interrupted him. “And I knew that if we didn’t, they would push you to take a concubine.” Her hand tangled into his hair, tugging it out of his ponytail so she could run it through her fingers. “I am _very_ bad at sharing.”

Sabin let out a chuckle before leaning down and kissing her. “Me too. But—"

“Sabin, I just want you to be happy. And we don’t know how much time we will have, in the end. I want to experience as much of it as we can. _Together_.” Celes pecked him on the cheek before continuing. “I’m not foolish. I know royal duties. I see the way you look at children. You and Edgar have given me a home. A new purpose. Let me do this for you.”

Leave it to Celes, the “ice queen”, as Relm called her, to make her pregnancy a negotiation deal. Then again with royals, babies were rarely about desire and more about purpose. _Heirs._ Sabin had desire—for the most part. He could tell Celes viewed it as duty. She had practically been a child soldier—without a proper childhood. 

Then again, so was Terra, and Terra had blossomed into an extremely maternal figure. He should ask her to stay on and help. Maybe even act as a nanny if she wanted to. Maybe, just maybe, between Terra and Sabin, they could show Celes that this could be so much more than duty.

He and Celes were in love. Madly so. This child was a direct product of their love and devotion. Many royals did not have that luxury. He desperately wanted her to see it that way, and quietly vowed to try and help her. He wanted her to be as happy as he was.

Sabin sighed deeply, before finally rolling off Celes and pulling her into his arms. He was about to say something, but she quickly interrupted him. “You are happy with this, right, Sabin? If you are happy, I am happy. There is nothing else to discuss.”

“Well…there is one other thing.”

Celes peered up at him inquisitively.

Sabin took a deep breath. He just needed to come out with it. “I don’t want you going to Jidoor.”

_“Excuse me?”_

“Not now. Not with the baby…we don’t know what we are walking into.” 

They truly didn’t. The only reason they were going is because Strago told them they may find answers there about the new magic users.

Celes pulled back from him, sitting up to lean against the headboard, crossing her arms and making it clear that if he wanted to live, he should not try to touch her right now. “Sabin, don’t you _dare_ do this. You promised…you really think being apart is better? I am a warrior. Do not insult me.”

Sabin sat up as well, leaning against the headboard and adjusting the sheet over himself. “Celes, you can take care of yourself, I know that, but…”

“It’s _Jidoor_ , Sabin. What’s the worst that’s going to happen? You drink a Jidoor red wine and buy a 1/1200 scale airship as a souvenir for Edgar at the auction?”

Shifting slightly, Sabin dared to inch closer to his wife, cautiously letting his fingers touch the tips of hers. “I…we’ve known what it was like everywhere else we went since we left Figaro. I just…I couldn’t stand it if something happened to you.”

Celes remained silent. He knew he wasn’t going to win this argument.

Wrapping his arm around her, Sabin pulled them both back down onto the bed and under the covers. “Just, promise me you’ll be careful, okay?”

She said nothing, but did curl into his side, quickly drifting off to sleep.

* * *

The letter he was waiting for finally arrived. The date was set. The target was ripe for the plucking. It was all too easy with his alliance. In a few weeks’ time, she would be his again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously, something big is coming...bit of a filler plot chapter.


	10. Chapter 10

**Desert Nights**

**Chapter 10**

* * *

The hand was soft, but not unfamiliar. Tracing gentle circles on her bare hip before trailing along her back. Celes shuddered at the strange tingle when her scars were touched. It was always an odd sensation. The wandering hand continued its trail along her marred back before stopping at her neck and tangling into her hair, pulling just slightly. It was not unwelcome.

“Mmmm…Sabin.” She murmured, her eyes still closed.

The hand in her hair formed a fist and pulled. _Hard_. “Who’s Sabin?”

* * *

Celes shot up from her dream, clutching the silk Doman duvet to her chest. Her breathing was ragged, but as far as she knew, she had not released any magic, nor had she been talking in her sleep. She glanced down at Sabin, who was stirring slightly, and she realized she had awoken on her own.

There was the familiar feeling of bile in her throat and she thought she may be sick. With a shaky hand, she reached for a glass of water at the side of the bed, taking a hesitant sip. Her shaking was bad enough that she spilled some on the comforter. When she tried to sip again, she surprisingly found her grip more stable. A hand had covered her own, steadying her. 

“Hey…” Sabin took the glass and replaced it back on the bedside table. “Are you okay? You look sick.”

Celes shook her head, still fighting back the bile that was creeping up her throat.

Sabin placed a hand against her clammy forehead, pushing hair away from her eyes. “Celes…what’s wrong? Is it the baby?”

“Mute…” She managed to gag out, before shaking her head rapidly, as if trying to will something out of her brain.

“You’re scaring me…”

“No…gods, I forgot you never really used magic. It’s the mute spell.” Celes’ color slowly returned as she regained her bearings. “You know when you try to cast a spell, but you’ve been muted? It’s like you have something desperate to get out of your body and its stuck. It tries to come out of your mouth, but gags you instead. Plus, the worst nausea I can describe.”

Sabin looked relieved. “As you said…I never really got the knack for magic. So…a dream then? I guess Terra casting mute on you worked? You were casting magic in your sleep?”

She nodded. “I think so. I’m okay. I just…I’m going to get some fresh air.”

Celes stood quickly before Sabin could grab her. She tugged on her silk robe, a wedding gift from Cyan, and stepping out onto the small balcony attached to their chambers at Doma Castle. 

She knew he would follow. 

The moon was full and cast shadows on the land beneath her. She could see the Veldt on the horizon, and hear the familiar growls of silver lobos, and the occasional roar of a dragon in the distance.

His arms were around her before she even sensed him approach. Slightly startling her, but also a testament to how much she trusted him.

“Wanna talk about it?”

She shook her head, leaning back into his bare chest, enjoying the warmth of his body. “I’m fine, Sabin.”

Sabin nuzzled his cheek against the top of her head without another word. He always knew when to give her silence. That she would open up when she was ready.

They listened to the distant sounds of the Veldt in companiable silence.

Surprisingly, it was her who spoke first. “Why is the desert so quiet at night?”

“Huh?”

“The desert. It’s so quiet. Here, you can hear the land, the monsters, the crickets. Wind in the trees…”

Sabin chuckled slightly. “Big city girl doesn’t like the quiet of the wilderness, huh? I guess Vector was probably a pretty loud city.” He tread lightly, knowing talking about Vector was a subject she rarely engaged in, or allowed.

“You could hear the magitek factory from the castle balconies…” She admitted softly. “It was like a drum. Constant march of death.”

Sabin stayed silent, rubbing his hands along her arms, quietly encouraging her to continue.

“I hated Vector. Despite its size, it was claustrophobic. Nighttime was not a time to sleep. So, the noise never mattered in that regard…”

Sabin couldn’t imagine growing up in a place where it felt unsafe to sleep. Whether it be due to magicite, or whatever other demons roamed the halls of Vector Castle. He knew better than to ask questions and based on her silence, it was all she was going to say about her past.

Celes tugged his arms around her tighter. “It’s loud here. You can hear the waterfall. The monsters. You know life is nearby.”

“The desert isn’t silent, Celes. You’re just too impatient to wait for it to speak to you. The wind does plenty upon the sand. You just need to listen. I’ll show you when we get home.”

He rubbed his hand along her stomach, closing his eyes and concentrating on her chi, searching for the life growing inside of her. After speaking at length with Terra about his theory, she had quickly dismissed it. 

_“That’s not the baby’s energy you’re feeling, Sabin. It’s Shiva.”_

_Sabin crossed his arms, shaking his head. “Shiva? I’ve never felt a divergence in Celes before. It has to be the pregnancy.”_

_“Shiva is getting stronger and trying to claw her way out. I can feel her every time I’m near Celes. Screaming.”_

_“What are we going to do?”_

_Terra paused. “I—I don’t know.”_

Sabin had not shared that conversation with his wife, nor had Terra. It was her worst nightmare come true, no need to make her panic. Wanting to prove Terra wrong, Sabin concentrated as he rubbed against Celes’ stomach. As if she knew what he was trying to do, she simply said nothing and continued to stare out at the sky. 

He felt her. _Celes_. Strong and familiar. Then it hit him. Like someone had squirted freezing water directly in his face. It was so sudden and forceful he staggered back, shivering and teeth chattering. Something was shoving him away, wanting him to stop interfering.

There was no mistake about what he had sensed. Shiva was indeed residing inside his wife, desperate to get out.

The suddenness of his departure caused Celes to flinch, whirling around and giving him a strange look. “What did you just do?”

Sabin frowned, then shook his head, as if willing cobwebs out. “Nothing. It’s nothing.” Grabbing her by the waist, he lifted her up easily, tugging her legs around him. He placed a kiss on the soft skin of her upper chest, suddenly exposed by her open robe. “Let’s get you back to sleep, hm?” 

It was an effort to distract her and she knew it. And he was good at it. _Too_ good. She let herself be carried back into the room, enjoying the feeling of his strong hands slipping up her waist to her back, his lips trailing on her rapidly more-exposed skin.

“You know,” he continued, peppering her neck with kisses. “Cyan has this book, _Bushido in the Bedroom_ , it gave me a few ideas…”

“Animal…” She chastised, but the words didn’t have any bite.

“Oh yeah, I am…” Sabin rumbled against her skin. “And I’m gonna take you like one too.”

Celes shuddered as Sabin grinned against her chest, his breath tickling her skin. He placed one last kiss on her collarbone before tossing her onto their bed. The tie of her robe _just happened_ to come loose with a flick of his wrist. “Oh, you _are?_ Are you?”

“Mmmhmm. You’re gonna be begging for more into that pillow real soon.” He crawled onto the bed over her, reaching up to quickly grab a pillow and pull it down near her head for emphasis. 

“Is that so?” The quietness of her own voice surprised Celes. But one look at the smoldering heat within Sabin’s eyes was enough to nearly undo her on the spot, and she barely registered her robe being tugged completely off.

“That’s a promise.” Leaning down, he gave her one last rough kiss before gently commanding against her lips. “ _Bend over…”_

She complied, never hesitating in her trust of him. Burying her face in the silk pillow, she lifted her hips to him, achingly curious as to what he was planning on doing.

If Celes was being honest, though she would _never_ admit this out loud, she loved when Sabin took complete control. Never did she think she would give _anyone_ any control over her, especially after growing up in the Empire. Yet with Sabin there was a complete vulnerability and trust, and the end result was well worth it. She looked _forward_ to it.

He never ceased to surprise her and was always ready to worship every inch of her body. While she thoroughly enjoyed when they made love gently or passionately, basking in each other’s mere presence, deep down her favorite was when Sabin became downright primal. He wouldn’t relent until she was unable to move, and she shivered slightly, eagerly anticipating what he had planned.

She had a sneaky suspicion he knew that. 

His hands came to her hips and slid underneath the sides of her panties, carefully and slowly peeling them down her legs. She lifted her knees so he could pull them fully off. Celes heard him let out a content hum as he stared at her, fully exposed and on display for him.

She recognized that low rumble in his throat, and knew what kind of love-making was coming. He was rustling around behind her, likely removing his pants. She idly wondered what he was going to do with her first. His mouth, his hands? Something else?

Hot breath immediately assailed her core and she let out a startled yelp.

“Shhh…” His words rumbled against her outer folds, causing a pleasant tingle to go up her spine. Sabin jerked her knees apart slightly to get better access before gently parting her lips with his fingers.

Celes sighed happily as his tongue drove into her. From the fervent movements of his tongue, she knew he was going to work her quickly into a frenzy. His teeth grazed her pearl as his tongue continued to dart within her, only to move away. Taunting. Then, instead of a gentle kiss or lick, he sucked. _Hard._

“Ahhh…Sabin!” It was almost too much too soon without any buildup, but she knew he wasn’t going to stop. Celes found herself gripping the pillow tightly, trying to bury her face in it to muffle her cries.

She felt him chuckle slightly, the vibrations against her giving an extremely pleasant sensation, before he pushed two fingers deep within her and hooked them forward, his mouth never leaving her nub. His fingers and mouth were working two sides of the same wonderful spot and Celes couldn’t help but let out a loud moan into the pillow as she climaxed quickly, stars flashing in her vision, her legs shaking madly.

That _had_ to be a record. 

Sabin let out another lusty hum and before Celes had a chance to say anything, he had slammed into her, burying himself to the hilt. He gave her no time to adjust to him, immediately starting a rough and fast rhythm as he relentlessly drove into her, his hands gripping her hips tightly. “You feel so good…”

There was no need for her to beg for him to go harder, Sabin knew exactly how Celes liked it. Her eyes practically rolled in the back of her head. If she were being honest, this was her favorite way he took her. 

And he _knew_ it.

A resounding smack echoed through the room as his palm found her bottom, causing her to yelp, though not in pain. She knew she was blushing, even under the pillow.

Sabin made a noise that sounded practically like a purr. “Yeah, you like that, hm? Gods, you’re so fucking wet.”

The blush spread from her cheeks down her neck and chest. Hearing those words—words he only uttered in the throes of passion—nearly made her come undone. She could never bring herself to speak like he did in bed, but it didn’t mean she didn’t secretly enjoy it. If anything, Sabin wasn’t even aware he did it, which made it all the more… _erotic._

He reached forward and grabbed her arms, tugging them behind her back and lifting her up off the bed by her wrists. “Arch your back.” He commanded, voice husky.

She obeyed, as she always did, arching her back as much as she could, tilting her upper body into the air. His grip on her wrists kept her balance and he resumed his rhythm. 

Celes bit her lip until it drew blood to try to keep quiet. The only sounds in the room were his grunts and occasional curses, her stifled moans, and the sound of his skin slapping against hers loudly. He kept hitting that same spot his fingers had found earlier as he slammed in over and over. It was almost painfully pleasurable.

“Oh gods…oh gods, Sabin…” She moaned out before biting her lip again. There was no way others couldn’t hear her, but she no longer cared. And she had a sneaking suspicion Sabin liked it that way. He wanted _everyone_ in Doma to know that he kept his wife well satisfied.

She knew she was going to climax again from the uncontrollable quivering in her thighs and the pressure in her belly. She finished hard, nearly screaming his name, feeling her walls spasm tightly around Sabin’s member. He mercifully released her wrists and she fell to the bed, supporting herself up weakly by her elbows.

“Please…I need a second…” She panted out. It was too much too quickly, and she was over stimulated yet wanted more at the same time. 

He gently withdrew from her, but she knew it wasn’t over. She must have been quite a sight, on all fours, sweat dripping down her back, hair a tousled mess, barely holding her own weight as she panted. Like some wild injured beast.

“You’re so beautiful…” Sabin lovingly tangled his hand in her hair and pulled her up to him, tilting her head back so he could kiss her deeply. She could feel his need pressed against her bottom, achingly hard. The hammering of his heart against her back, matching her own. The musky scent in the air tickled her nose. 

His free hand slid up her stomach and found a breast, squeezing it and rolling the weight in his hands pleasantly. He pulled back a fraction from her lips and spoke against her mouth. “You okay?”

Always a gentleman. He would never hurt her or take anything too far. She knew that. “Mmmhmm. Wonderful,” she moaned against his mouth, inflating his ego even further. He deserved the praise. Sabin treated love-making like another form of martial arts to master. Complete discipline of his body. And he had _absolutely_ mastered it.

Sabin released his grip on her and gently pushed her back down on the bed. She complied and sank to her elbows again, but Sabin kept pushing on her back. “On your stomach. Keep your legs together.”

She nodded and spread out on her stomach, turning her head to peer up at him. This was new.

He gently spread her legs just enough so he could slide into her once again before laying on top of her. His weight pushing her further into the mattress. 

He stilled, letting her adjust before kissing the corner of her mouth. “I love you…”

“I love you too.” She responded without hesitation; her voice quiet. She was surprised how easily the words came. 

Lacing his fingers through hers, he began to grind his hips. “Ghorbunet besham,” He whispered, his pace slow and steady, a welcome relief. 

“K—Khoda nakone…” Celes moaned lusciously to his delight and surprise. “This feels—a…amazing.”

Sabin gently nibbled on the shell of her ear and ground his pelvis into her more forcefully, pushing against the top of her already over-stimulated sex. “Come, Celes…one more…for me.” His free hand slid underneath her body to find her swollen nub and he started rubbing in small circles, his touch gentle. From the sound of his voice, Celes could tell he was extremely close and wanted them to finish together.

The combination of his words, his husky voice, the feeling of his solid body on hers, how deep he was inside of her, his expert ministrations on her pearl—it was easy to obey him. She squeezed his hand tightly as she spasmed around his member. There was no need to even try to be quiet, it hit her so hard she found she couldn’t find her voice and instead let out a soft. “Oh…Ohhhh….” Her body went entirely slack and Celes was sure she wouldn’t be moving for a very long time. 

It was enough to send Sabin over the edge, and she could feel him pulsing within her as her own orgasm subsided. He buried his face in her neck and let out a long content groan, squeezing her hand as hard as she was squeezing his. He pumped into her a few more times after before finally withdrawing carefully and rolling onto his back with a deep happy sigh.

Sabin tugged her towards him, so she was resting on his chest, his hand brushing hair back from her face. “That was…wow…maybe we should try some more stuff from the book, huh?”

Celes wasn’t really sure _how_ Sabin was even talking at this point, but she let out an affirmatory noise in response as she basked in the afterglow.

Sabin chuckled. “That good, hm?”

She never responded, quickly falling asleep, though part of her was rather surprised that Cyan had such a book, and also, that Sabin had somehow got his hands on it. A talk for another time.

* * *

The two weeks in Doma passed quickly. Sabin spent their last morning having tea with Cyan privately.

“Lady Celes did well here.” Cyan said, taking a sip of the strong green tea that Doma was known for.

Sabin relished in the warmth of the clay cup in his hands, combating the cold air of Doma. “What do you mean?”

“To be honest with thee, Sir Sabin…my people were hesitant of her heritage. Given the late King of Doma’s murder.”

“Celes has more than made up for her past.” Sabin sipped his tea carefully. “My people have accepted her as a ruler. Though, they don’t know about the magicite, and I would rather keep it that way.”

“Thou seems to have grown into a fine leader as well, Sir Sabin.”

Sabin tried not to spit out his tea. He hardly felt like he was a leader in Figaro, but maybe he did more than he realized.

“Thou will be a fine father. You are already a fine husband. Tis the greatest joy I ever had the privilege of…” Cyan paused. “I will always miss Owain. But, Sir Gau has brought a warmth to my heart once again. I wish to do well by him.”

Sabin smiled a little. “He has grown significantly under your care. Thank you.”

Cyan cleared his throat and turned away so Sabin would not see the tears forming in his eyes. “Anyway. Your bride put on a wonderful show. It was clear to all, that she makes you most happy. And you, the same. She won the Domans over.”

Sabin grinned, but said nothing. Celes had indeed put on quite the show in their two weeks. She remained in formal attire most of the time, dressed in the silks of Doma for the dinners, and impressed the samurai with a demonstration of her skill with the blade in what could only be described as a seductive dance. Beauty was always an advantage in a country like Doma, led by a panel of warriors. She saw that they appreciated a more subservient female, one who filled the men’s glasses before their own. Quiet. She did perfectly, even though it was against her nature. 

He had overheard some of the things the men had said in passing, arrogantly believing that Sabin did not understand their language. He didn’t repeat them, but couldn’t help but feel a little proud at some, and a little angry at others.

Sabin was sad to leave Doma, but also eager to return to Figaro and talk to Edgar. He wanted to inform him of Celes’ pregnancy in person—though he had a funny feeling that Edgar had suspected it the night before they left. Celes remained irritated at Sabin for the first few days, but he, as usual, was swiftly able to coax her out of her anger. She got her way and was going to Jidoor, there was no reason to stay mad at him for suggesting she not go. He briefly pondered suggesting she stay on the airship but knew that would just draw out her wrath. She trusted him. He had to trust her. 

Gau was invited to accompany then, but said he needed to remain with “Mr. Thou”. While Sabin was disappointed, he knew it was the better decision. Gau needed to stay close to the Veldt and would likely hate being stuck in the desert. He and Relm vowed to exchange letters and Relm even tried to stay in Doma as well, before Sabin forcibly dragged her onto the airship, much to her chagrin.

Since learning of her pregnancy, Sabin had been overly protective of Celes to the point where he knew it was annoying her. Relm even said she figured that Celes was “knocked up” since he was “watching her like a hawk” and “constantly pawing on her stomach all the time.” 

He needed to relax, or this was all going to blow up in his face. 

Unfortunately, he chose the wrong time to let his guard down.

And the results would haunt him for the rest of his life.


	11. Chapter 11

**Desert Nights**

**Chapter 11**

* * *

Three steps into Jidoor, and it became painfully obvious. The town was quiet. _Too_ quiet considering it was the World’s center for the arts, gambling, auctioning, and everything money could buy. 

The women were all armed, Celes with her trusty God Save the Queen, and Terra with Ultima Weapon. Relm was with them, a small dagger at her waist. Setzer, as usual, remained behind on the airship to work on his changes.

Sabin brushed his fingertips over the brass knuckles in his pocket, carefully slipping them on as he looked around. “I don’t like this.” He mumbled softly, reaching out to grab Celes’ hand. 

She was clutching the hilt of her epee, glancing around. Squinting, she assessed the many houses and shops at the edge of town and noticed that almost everyone had their shutters closed over their windows. Hiding. From someone. 

Or _something._

“Where is everyone?” Celes’ voice was uneasy.

Sabin was set to suggest they head back to the airship, but hesitated. Just a moment too long.

From the shadows, figures appeared. Armored. In magitek gear. The last vestiges of the Imperial Army’s elite magitek knight units, perhaps. Soldiers that weren’t supposed to exist anymore. Six in total. It was a fight they could win easily. But, the enemy had one advantage over them. 

They had clearly anticipated their arrival.

While the magitek factory was destroyed along with Vector when the world ended, Celes knew that there was a possibility armor still existed. The magitek knights themselves weren’t anything special, it was the armor that made the knight. Obviously someone had found some and was re-creating a small army.

“It’s a trap,” Terra hissed in Sabin’s ear, stepping back-to-back with Relm, as Sabin pressed his back against Celes.

“Strago,” Sabin muttered back. “He sold us out.” 

It had to be Strago. _He_ was the one who pointed them in the direction of Jidoor. _He_ had made it clear he had no desire for an alliance with Figaro, and Relm had made it clear to Sabin that Strago did not trust Celes. At all. As far as Strago was concerned, Celes may as well have been Kefka. He hadn’t liked her since the very first time they set foot in Thamasa. And after the World ended, he joined the Fanatics Tower cult. The only reason he left was because of Relm, but perhaps his alliances never truly changed.

Sabin had a sinking feeling that all of this was about his wife. She was the link between all the pieces.

A look of dawning flashed across Relm’s face. Then one of recognition. She certainly had no knowledge of it, that’s for sure. Sabin wondered if Strago knew she was here. He certainly wouldn’t have put her in danger. This plan was clearly put into motion _weeks_ ago.

“Sold us out to _whom_? And for what?” Celes shook her head, taking up a guarding stance with her sword. 

“Guess we’re about to find out.” Sabin launched into an attack on an encroaching magitek knight. Jumping onto the back of the machina, he grabbed the soldier’s neck in a choke hold, and landing a few carefully placed punches, effectively knocking the man out. He heaved the soldier out of the machina and tossed him to the ground. 

Jumping into the cockpit of the machina, he considered using it as a weapon. But Sabin knew he could potentially harm his allies with the beams, and made a split-second decision to disable the suit by jamming the controls instead. He hopped to the ground as it cycled down and went dormant. Edgar may have been known for his prowess with machines and engineering, but Sabin was no slouch.

Despite being a world class warrior, and likely one of the best swordsmen that existed, Celes knew Sabin would be distracted in a fight worrying about her. She quickly found a favorable position near a wall, so her back was covered, but could still participate in the battle. She _hated_ going on the defense. It’s not how she fought. But she had to do this for him. For the baby. A quick flash and a soldier in regular magitek-armor engaged her in a sword fight.

“General…” The man sneered as he surprisingly landed a light graze to her arm, drawing first blood. “It is most excellent to see you again.”

She made no noise as he landed the hit, instead turning up her nose. She parried his blade and landed a hit of her own, her epee going cleanly through his shoulder where there was a small gap in the armor.

As they continued to duel, Celes became increasingly confused. She knew she was superior with the blade over this man, yet she wasn’t landing the blows she needed to take him down. She realized her mistake too late, heavily favoring a defensive position and taking obvious hits in favor of defending her midsection. She didn’t know how to fight and protect what was growing inside her. She wasn’t ready for this. If she had practiced even a few days dueling like this she would have been fine, but…

“You knocked up or something?” The soldier taunted her with his sword.

Celes said nothing and readied herself for another blow.

The man laughed maniacally at her knowing silence. “With a Figaro royal brat? Oh, this is _rich_. The Emperor is _not_ going to be happy about this.”

She was so wrapped up in guarding her stomach she completely gave it away. She may has well have been wearing a sign announcing she was with child. 

Gods, Sabin was right. She never should have come here. 

“Emperor? Are you mad? Gestahl is dead,” Celes finally spat, trying to stall the man, as she twisted her body to take a hit to the hip instead of her stomach. “I watched Kefka kill him myself.”

The hit sent a searing pain across her pelvis, the flat edge of his sword likely leaving a large bruise. Celes’ knee buckled slightly, but she quickly recovered enough to stab the man in the other shoulder, wounding his dominant arm and causing him to drop his sword.

He growled and stepped back, pressing his hand over the bloody hole. “I’m not talking about Gestahl, General. You’ll see soon enough.”

The statement was concerning, and caused Celes to pause, giving her enemy an opening. It was a mistake she never would have made in the past, but the lack of battles and training over the past few months had caught up to her. As well as the pregnancy. She should have been like Sabin and trained daily. She had let the peace after Kefka’s defeat, the peace she felt at Figaro…it made her believe there weren’t any enemies left. A foolish mistake on her part.

The large man swiftly advanced, jumping onto her. He was so close her sword was now useless and he had at least one hundred pounds on her. She struggled to step back, and in the struggle, he was able to knock her beloved epee from her hands and grab her wrists. Celes realized very quickly, that he had no intention of killing her. 

His intentions were far more sinister.

She should have never come here.

A whizzing sound flew by her ear and the next thing she knew, the man was pinned to the wall with two shuriken.

Shuriken? 

A masked combatant jumped in front of her, slamming a fist into the head of the man trapped on the wall, rendering him unconscious.

He grabbed her epee and handed it back to her. “Anyone with eyes can see you’re with child, Celes. Fight smarter. Or better yet, head for the ship.”

“Shadow…”

He glanced over his shoulder at her, and she could see he was giving her the smallest of smiles even through the mask. “Congratulations. Now go. I do not wish to see another man become a widower.”

He leapt into the fray, towards Relm and Terra, who were in battle with a magitek knight firing beams at them. On his way out, he threw a smoke bomb in her direction, giving her cover to escape.

It went against all her better instincts to flee from battle, but she did. She was no use to them when she couldn’t really fight. If anything, she was a hindrance and a distraction.

* * *

When the smoke finally cleared from the bombs Shadow had thrown, and the last of the soldiers fell, Sabin collapsed to the ground with a tired sigh. He was glad he kept up his training, or this would have been an actual challenge. Glancing around, he quickly spotted Relm and Terra not too far away with a familiar ninja.

“Shadow!” He called out, jumping to his feet and jogging to the trio. “Where’s—” 

“I sent her to the ship.” Shadow reassured the young monk, clasping his hand within his own in a friendly gesture. “Congratulations on your marriage and child.”

“How did you—” Sabin paused, shaking his head. “It was obvious, wasn’t it? With her fighting stance? Dammit, Celes…”

Shadow nodded, then turned to Relm, his voice softening. “Are you hurt?”

Relm grinned, flexing her muscles, imitating Sabin. “I whooped some serious ass there!”

“Hey!” Terra quickly called out. “Does anyone care if I’m hurt?”

“You’re an adult and a half Esper. I am sure you are fine.” Shadow did cast a cautionary glance over her, unseen by almost everyone. “What now, Sabin?”

Shadow, ever himself, eased into the group with familiarity and poise. As if he had been with them the whole time. Who knew how long he would stay, but Sabin was always happy for his help and companionship. Sabin liked to think Shadow viewed him as a friend, and his protection of Celes said as much. But, Shadow was always a difficult read.

“Uh, let’s go to the airship and grab Celes. Then interrogate one of these jerks that’s still alive and figure out what the hell this whole mess is about.”

The trio nodded at the plan and made their way to the entrance of the town. Interceptor was barking near a shiny object, clearly trying to get their attention. Sabin ran to the object and the rest followed behind.

Terra knew what it was before Sabin realized it.

God Save the Queen.

“No…” Sabin muttered, kneeling next to the sword. “No, no, no…” 

It could only mean one thing. Celes would _never_ abandon her sword. The sight of Setzer running towards them from the ship— _alone_ —confirmed his worst fears.

“No…” Tears streamed down his face as he repeatedly slammed a fist into the ground until his knuckles were bleeding. He felt a pair of warm arms surrounding him and Terra’s familiar smell.

“She’s okay…she has to be.” Terra’s own voice cracked, and he could feel her tears spilling against his neck as she nuzzled him, holding him from behind in a weak attempt at comfort.

“Does this mean anything to you?” Shadow held up a familiar piece of paper to them. “It was right near the sword.”

“Celes’ map!” Relm grabbed it from Shadow and opened it up, looking at it carefully. “She left it on purpose, I’m sure of it.”

Sabin shrugged Terra’s arms off his shoulders and stood. Rubbing his eyes, the tears stopped, and his eyes turned cold, voice icy. He cracked his knuckles menacingly and said in a voice calmer than anyone had ever heard. “Go get one of those fuckers now. I’m going to talk to have a little talk with them.”

Shadow nodded and made way back to the group of soldiers on the ground.

“No blood.” Sabin was muttering as he watched Shadow.

“Huh?” Terra looked over at him.

“There’s no blood. She went willingly. And alive. She left the map so we would know.”

“I don’t understand. Why would Celes go with them willingly?” Terra shook her head incredulously. 

Shadow reappeared and shook his head. “Five bodies. All dead. Poison. Every single one. Didn’t want to leave us the option of interrogation, I suppose. The one I trapped with my shuriken seems to have escaped.”

“Fuck,” Sabin let out a string of obscenities.

“Sabin,” Terra tried again. “Why would she go willingly?”

Sabin remained stoic.

“She was likely threatened. Or rather…they threatened something precious to her.” Shadow offered quietly.

“The baby…” Terra regretted saying it the moment the words came out, as she noticed Sabin stiffen beside her. “They knew…”

Sabin wordlessly strode away from the group, out into the fields outside Jidoor, still eerily calm. He sank to the soft grass, taking up a meditative pose and closing his eyes. 

Behind him he could make out Relm’s voice. “Hey guys? I think I know where Celes is…”

* * *

The trio watched their companion as he sat, unnervingly calm, staring at seemingly nothing. They had known him long enough to know from the stiff posture of his back, and his folded hands, that he was meditating.

“He should be glad, right?” Relm eventually broke the silence. “She’s not dead.”

Terra and Shadow exchanged a look but remained quiet.

Relm darted her eyes between the two of them. “What aren’t you guys telling me? I’m not a kid anymore!”

“Celes has no friends left in the Empire, I would imagine. And yet, they wanted her alive.” Shadow sighed and stared out at the horizon, his expression unreadable. “Sabin is wondering _why_ they kept her alive. _What_ they are doing to her. Imagining the worst…”

Terra’s mouth formed a thin line, and her eyes began to water slightly. “She has been imprisoned before. She’s tough. She can handle a lot. She was trained for this under the Empire.”

“She’s more vulnerable this time. Women tend to not fare well…”

Relm scratched her head. “What do you mea—oh…oh, sweet Shiva. You mean. Oh. Poor Celes. Poor Sabin…”

Shadow nodded. “Indeed. I imagine he is trying to clear his head of such images so he can make a decision as to what we should do next. Angry choices are rarely good ones.”

“But, I know where she is.” The young artist opened the map, jabbing a finger pointedly. “Celes was tracking the magic, I was helping…look at the arrows. She thinks the magic all comes from one central spot. Right here.”

Relm traced her finger along the map and Terra gasped slightly. “The Fanatics Tower?”

The source of magic. The place where magic was so strong that weapons couldn’t even be used. The well in which all the remaining magic was pulsing through the World of Ruin. The place where vestiges of magitek knights were coming from. The ruins of destroyed Espers.

Where Vector was buried.


	12. Chapter 12

**Desert Nights**

**Chapter 12**

* * *

King Edgar of Figaro was not pleased. He and his two companions, collectively known as “Thursday”, had just fallen asleep after an extremely enjoyable romp. Someone was pounding loudly at his door, which was not only wholly unwelcomed, but also generally prohibited.

The man next to him sat up and started to stand. “Shall I deal with this, Ala Hazrat?” 

His female companion merely burrowed further into his side, placing a few lazy kisses against his neck.

Edgar was keen to let the man take care of it. And admire his chiseled body, the sharp angles of his face, and tan Figaro skin as he did. Though, he was also keen to not let anyone know about his bedroom activities.

Then he heard a voice on the other side of the door.

“ _Edgar!”_

Edgar shot up from where he lay and grabbed the man’s arm, pulling him back down. “I’ll take care of it, Lapis.” Giving a quick kiss to both his companions he shrugged on a robe. “I do apologize, you won’t be staying with me tonight. I will see you next week though, Naomi. Lapis.” He added hastily, before dashing to the door and opening it.

His brother stood there disheveled, and wild-eyed. He looked like he hadn’t slept and there was blood on his clothes. Clearly something was wrong, especially since he wasn’t expecting Sabin to return for a few more days. 

“Sabin! What happened?” Edgar spoke in a low voice, not wanting the couple in his bed to overhear.

“Throne room. _Now.”_ Sabin hissed softly, before turning on his heel and running down the hall.

Edgar dressed dressing as quickly as he could. “Leave at once!” He commanded his companions, his voice taking on the air of authority only he could muster as king.

They looked surprised, but complied, quickly gathering their things and all but running from the room.

* * *

Sabin was slumped in his throne, tapping his foot against the ground impatiently. The fact that he was actually sitting in his throne was a telltale sign something was horribly amiss. He absolutely _hated_ the thing. Never mind the blood on his clothing, scorch marks, scabbed-over knuckles, and notable absence of his partner. 

Sabin’s mood was not comforted sitting in the throne, if anything it made him even more on edge. A bleary reminder of the loss of his wife. The last time he had been willing to sit on his throne was a few months ago, in the dead of the night, when Celes, kneeling before him, helped him fulfil a series of very long-held, _very_ secret fantasies. Fantasies of her that had started way back when they uncovered Figaro Castle in the World of Ruin. In fact, the more he thought about it, it was quite possibly the night he impregnated her. How depressingly appropriate. Conceive the heir to the throne in the throne room. 

The presence of Terra came as no surprise to Edgar, Celes had written him and told him of Terra’s plans to stay in Figaro for a while (much to Edgar’s delight). But, the presence of Shadow, whom he believed to be dead, certainly did. As did the presence of one precocious teenager who practically knocked him over with a fierce hug upon arrival.

“Relm? What are you—” Edgar shook his head, quickly clasping hands with Shadow in greeting and giving Terra a quick kiss on the cheek. “What in the world is going on? What happened? Where’s—”

“Taken.” Sabin’s voice had an icy edge to it that Edgar had never heard before. “The Empire _took_ her, Edgar.”

Gears in Edgar’s head began to turn as he surveyed the group in front of him. It was clear there had been a fight. It was also apparent that Celes was taken alive, otherwise the conversation would have been vastly different. “What? The Empire? How?”

Sabin remained stony and silent, his jaw tightening, flexing and unflexing his fists, and Edgar could see the tell-tale signs of unbridled anger. His brother was dangerously close to snapping.

“There were magitek knights, Edgar.” Terra supplied the story, when it became clear Sabin was in no condition to even attempt to talk. “They ambushed us in Jidoor. They knew we were coming…”

Edgar locked eyes with Shadow and an unspoken communication took place. Edgar was smart enough to realize Strago had informed the Empire, but was also smart enough to not mention it in front of Relm. “Magitek? So, there _are_ still users out there. And armor. But…either way, that is hardly a difficult battle for the group of you.”

Relm jumped up and down. “Of course it wasn’t! That’s not the point!”

The King tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Celes told me she suspected there was armor in storage somewhere. That if anyone could find the ruins of Vector there would be a jackpot.”

“Well, apparently someone _found_ it.” Sabin spoke up, his voice still eerily calm, but venom-laced.

“This map.” Relm offered Edgar a folded piece of paper. “Celes was tracking magic in the ground.”

“The ruins of Vector…the magitek factory.” Terra stood next to Edgar as he looked at the map, pointing out various arrows. “It makes sense all the magic would flow from there. Its leftover magic must have somehow not been destroyed with the Warring Triad. I can still transform, after all, though magic is nearly impossible for me. Somehow the ground is soaked with the death of the Espers. Giving it magic…Vector must be buried under the Fanatic’s Tower.” 

“That’s where she is?” He asked.

“We believe so.” Shadow said softly. “The Fanatic’s Tower is tricky to get into. One entrance, impossibly tall. She could be anywhere. Sabin felt that storming it may be a mistake. A trap. Possibly get Celes killed. We flew here to come up with a plan.”

That was a wise decision on Sabin’s part, and Edgar felt a small beam of pride in his brother for not being so impulsive for once. “Good choice. When did all this happen?”

“Five hours ago.” Sabin grit out in annoyance.

“You flew fast from Jidoor.” Edgar said, mentally doing the math. Sabin must have been in agony the whole ride, and Edgar shot him a sympathetic look. “But, none of this makes sense. It was a unit you could easily defeat, Celes probably could have defeated a few magitek knights solo. How did—”

“We believe she was threatened.” Shadow said tersely. Clearly there was more to the story, and Edgar needed to understand, but it seemed to not be Shadow’s story to tell.

“But—”

“She’s pregnant.” Sabin’s façade was starting to crack, and his face was pained.

“Oh gods…” Striding over to Sabin, he pulled him to his feet from the throne and wrapped his arms around him in a hug that would rival his own. “I’m so sorry, Rene…” He whispered in his ear. “I promise we will retrieve her.”

Sabin slowly returned the embrace, and Edgar could feel his tears on his shoulder as he gently rubbed his twin’s back. A poor comfort in this situation, but he would try.

“I’ll do anything to get her back to you, little brother. _Anything._ ”

Sabin tightened his grip around his brother, his voice low, so the other occupants could not hear him. “Figaro can’t look like they are starting a war. People will panic if we invade the tower, Roni…”

“Agreed. And we hardly want to make it public that she’s been taken. It makes us look weak.”

They separated, and to Edgar’s relief, Sabin did not slump into his throne again.

Shadow cleared his throat. “If I may, knowing the Fanatics Tower, I think the best strategy would be a solo mission. You would need someone stealthy, quick, and inconspicuous. It could certainly be done, possibly undetected, with as few battles as necessary.”

“So, someone like you?” Relm asked.

He shook his head. “I cannot pick locks. I think you know who you need…”

“A master thief.” Terra finally said.

“I know how to get in touch with him. Tell Setzer to send the airship to the Phoenix Cave.” Edgar stated authoritatively, not bothering to ask Sabin’s input.

* * *

After parting to clean up and gather what they needed to travel, Edgar found his twin in an unexpected place. He was headed to his own chambers when he noticed the door of his brother’s former room open.

Pausing, he entered to find Sabin just staring at the bed, a blank expression on his face.

“Rene?” Edgar asked, gently placing a hand on his shoulder.

Thankfully, Sabin did not shrink from his touch, but his shoulders sagged. “I…our room held too many memories. Smelled of her. So, I came here.”

“I see.”

“I failed her, Roni.” Sabin strode from him, moving to the bathroom to start the water.

“No, you did not, Rene. It sounds like _she_ made an active choice to protect all of you. And your child.”

“I told her not to go to Jidoor. I should have insisted…” Sabin tugged his shirt over his head and threw it to the side. Edgar saw a few scrapes on his abdomen, a scorch from a fire beam, and long nail scratches down his back. Marks of both love and war—made barely hours apart.

“And you think she would have listened? Don’t be foolish. She will be back in your arms in no time. Celes has been trained to deal with exactly this type of thing. She was an Imperial _General,_ and she has been imprisoned before.”

Sabin kicked a bucket over, splashing water across the tile. “That’s supposed to make it better? She’s _pregnant_ and they _know._ With the heir to _our_ throne. It’s not just her!”

Edgar sighed, not knowing how to continue. Sabin indeed had a point, but he didn’t want to add to his twin’s stress. Sabin rarely took ownership of the fact that he ruled with his brother. Could be an equal King if he chose. It made Edgar realize just how much Sabin had grown, but also, the direness of the situation. Celes was _far_ more vulnerable than the last time she was imprisoned. But there was a reason they hadn’t killed her on the spot, she was alive. They knew _that_ at least.

“I’ve failed her from day one, Roni…” Sabin whispered softly.

“What? Of course that’s not true.”

“No, you don’t get it…” Sabin ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “The first few times we… _you know_ …I was careful. So she didn’t…”

_Get pregnant_. Edgar could read between the lines when Sabin was speaking about something he was uncomfortable with voicing.

Sabin sighed deeply and gestured to the bathtub. “But, the next morning. I wasn’t careful. And…she probably thought it was an accident, but…it _wasn’t._ I wanted her to…I secretly hoped she would end up...so that I could keep her.”

“She married you willingly.”

Sabin scoffed. “Come off it, Roni. You know just as much as I do that you twisted her arm. The second you knew we slept together gave you all you needed to push her into it. We basically both _used_ her. How are _we_ any better than the Empire?”

“Now you sound downright foolish. I wanted my little brother to have everything he desired, sure. And I knew that when you finally _completely_ tasted a woman you wouldn’t want to stop. But, Celes _loves_ you. Of _that_ I am certain. I am guessing her pregnancy wasn’t an accident.”

“No. No accident. Just something else she was guilted into doing. The stupid chancellors…heirs.” Sabin retrieved the bucket he kicked earlier and slammed it down under the stream of water to fill again.

The King shook his head. “Celes is not the type of woman who can just be guilted into behavior, Rene. You aren’t giving her, or yourself, enough credit.”

“I’m…scared.”

Edgar wrapped his brother in a fierce hug, feeling the tears on his shoulder once again. “Me too. But, have faith in her. That’s all we can do.”

* * *

“Watch it.” The man on the throne yelled at the soldier.

The trooper did not go out of his way to be gentle with his cargo. Tossing the unconscious body unceremoniously on the floor in front of the man. “I didn’t hurt her. As you requested.”

The man on the throne smiled. “Excellent. As a reward I will let you assist me in… _retraining_ her.”

The guard grinned. “The dumb bitch was my commanding officer. I look forward to teaching her a lesson.”

The man on the throne stood quickly, curtly slapping the soldier across the face. “Watch how you speak of her!”

“Forgive me, Emperor.”

“And the rest? Was _he_ there?”

The soldier nodded. “The Figaro Prince was there. Along with the witch. We did not hurt them, as you asked. Though…I don’t understand. Why keep your enemy alive?”

The Emperor chuckled, an eerie, familiar laugh reminiscent of a certain former Imperial clown. “Because…he is not for _you_ to kill. It’s someone else’s job. It has to be by _her_ hand.”

“Emperor, there is…one more thing.”

“What is it? Your presence is starting to bother me.”

The soldier found himself smiling, curious to see how the Emperor would take this news. “She’s pregnant.”

The Emperor’s smile momentarily faded to a scowl, before slowly returning to his face, laced with sadistic jubilation. “With the heir to Figaro? Oh, this will be even easier than I thought.”

* * *

Celes felt the haze of a remarkably strong poison in the back of her head. She couldn’t remember how long she had been in this cell. Minutes? Hours? Days? How did she even get here? The city of Jidoor sounded familiar.

Memories and time were mixing together. She could no longer distinguish where she was, what was a dream, or a nightmare, or reality. Not even knowing _who_ was real anymore. Maybe she was still in South Figaro, in jail. Perhaps being saved by Locke, the world ending, marrying Sabin…it had all been a long dream. Maybe today was the day she was going to be executed. 

One thing she was sure of was pain. Her wrists were aching from being chained up, and her shoulders felt like they were nearly dislocated. Someone had beaten her badly, and apparently didn’t bother stopping once she fell unconscious. Who knows what else they had done to her while she was passed out. Her chest and abdomen were aching, a persistent, sharp cramping in her stomach. She smelled blood, the metallic stench consumed the holding cell. A quick glance to the floor revealed splatters of crimson in dozens of tiny starburst patterns. But her face seemed unscathed. 

_Let me out._

Her back and hips ached. Yet more scars would be added to her menagerie. That’s right. She had scars. It _had_ happened. She was not in a cell in South Figaro. She needed to focus on reality. Sabin was real. Edgar was real. Terra was real. _She_ was real. 

_Let me out and I will punish those that hurt you._

Was that her mind speaking? Shiva was dead, the part that resided in her was only a remnant. Magicite…

She couldn’t do that anyway. No. Shiva would destroy everyone within her radius. And she would be feared forever. She would go mad. She would be no better than…

Her attempt at clearing her head was interrupted by a voice. “You were always meant for me, you know.” 

The voice was familiar, and she knew the owner had been in the cell multiple times, for however long she had been in there. More than that…she knew this voice from her childhood. 

_I can make this stop._

A body pressed against hers, unwelcome fingers cradling her cheek and tangling into her hair—the way Sabin always did. “Father promised you to me. Way back when he grabbed you from that pathetic little land of yours. Said we could mold you into the perfect pet. You were to be my bride when you returned from the South Figaro invasion. I was _most_ unhappy with him when he sentenced you to death. I told him we just needed to break you again.” The face was now close to hers, lips inches from her own. “Imagine my joy upon finding out you _survived_.” 

_Let me out and I will make it stop._

The man’s lips pressed against her own and he forced his tongue in her mouth. Celes resisted the urge to bite down and thought she might vomit. Though she couldn’t be sure, she had a sinking feeling this was not the first time this man had kissed her, or touched her. A memory from many years ago flashed in her head.

_He will be gone. Let me out._

The figure pulled back. “You still taste heavenly, Celes. I had nearly forgotten your flavor, and your beauty. Leo and Cid are gone…and you will make a fine Empress.”

Empress…

_I can make it stop._

“Fritz…” She said softly, it hurt to talk. 

So, Gestahl’s son was alive. The last time she had seen him had been before the invasions of Maranda and South Figaro. He hadn’t been in Vector when she returned.

“You remember me.” And in an instant, his hands were on her again, and he was kissing her face as she tried to turn her mouth away, a hand squeezing her breast painfully through the remains of her shirt. “It’s too bad you’re tainted now, but I can forgive you. Giving yourself to a Figaro…so _beneath_ you. You must be so happy that I found you. Although _you_ will have to get rid of that husband of yours and his pesky brother though, won’t you, my dear? Just like you got rid of that clown Kefka…after all, you’ve _never_ disobeyed your _master_ in the past, like a good little girl.”

Maître.

_Let me out…_

“I can’t…”

_I can protect you._

A lie. Shiva would take over. Her body may stay alive, but her mind would be gone. “I can protect myself.”

_But you cannot protect what is growing inside of you._

“…”

_I can._

Celes’ eyes fluttered shut and she lost consciousness.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my wonderful ever-beta, **Bebedora**. You are the absolute best!


End file.
